by Caris Roane
He’d learned early on that he had alpha potential and the next few years had been a long yet exciting climb up the rungs of pack life. He fought a series of dominance fights that he could still remember as one of the best string of events he’d ever experienced.
What he hadn’t expected was the night he fought the alpha for the position as top wolf. He’d expected to be more torn up about unseating the man, but he soon realized that the true alpha accepted dominance as a way of life. He suspected one day he’d be supplanted as well.
A sense of sadness returned as he recalled how the alpha, Mark, had been killed in one of the ensuing violent outbreaks in Savage. He’d died honorably while protecting several Gordion female wolves from another pack’s onslaught.
Sydon’s attempt to become alpha of the Gordion Pack, however, had been a different matter. He’d challenged Fergus as an outsider. It wasn’t unheard of and the Savage Pack Council had ruled that dominance was dominance. Anyone could demand a dominance fight with an alpha.
Fergus had known for a long time that Sydon wanted the Gordion Pack. He hadn’t been surprised at all when the official challenge came through, signed by Dean himself. But the last thing he’d expected was a skewer into his heart in the middle of the fight.
Now he was here, with Mary, and Sydon was in a dungeon cell, a bullet in his thigh.
Once inside the living room, Mary turned in a circle. “This must have seemed so small to you. I mean, you’re a big man.”
“True, but I joined the Savage Border Patrol soon after landing here. I didn’t spend much time indoors except to sleep.”
When she headed into the kitchen area, he remained by the dining table.
“Look,” she said, “Someone brought over a meatloaf and an apple pie.”
“They’re from my pack. The women have always taken care of me.”
She glanced at him. “You’re smiling.”
“I suppose I am.”
“You love the Gordion Pack, don’t you?”
“I do. I care about every member. They’re family to me.”
“I’m getting that.” She reached for the meatloaf. “It’s still warm. I don’t think we’ll even need to heat this up. You hungry?”
He extended his nostrils. “That smells fantastic. And yes, I’m starved.”
“Me, too.”
He followed her into the kitchen. The small woodsy cabin still had the same earthy smell that he remembered, even though he hadn’t been here in over a year.
Mary moved around the small space that had an undersized butcher block island and pots hanging overhead. Sharon had been gone three years now. He was appalled by how little he missed her. But things hadn’t been right between them the entire time they’d lived in Five Bridges. She hadn’t adjusted to wolf life as well as he had. She’d hated the dominance fights, but they’d been a form of sustenance for him.
He’d known she’d cheated on him, but he honestly couldn’t blame her. He’d become obsessed with caring for the pack and had little time for her.
He’d been faithful to her, but he’d been unable to help her create a satisfying life for herself in Savage. She’d loved the resort they’d built together in Sedona and despite that she’d lived over a decade in Savage, he knew she’d never stopped resenting that his business partner had sabotaged their meal with the alter serum.
With her resentment, her dislike of wolfness generally, and his own focus fixed so completely on the pack, he couldn’t think badly of her if she’d taken pleasure in the arms of other men. He was enough of a man to admit he’d failed as a husband.
Then there was Mary in her jeans and double tank tops in white and lavender. She was hunting through the cupboards and her ass looked gorgeous in the snug denim. She’d found a bottle of wine and now pulled two glasses off the shelf.
Desire for her heated up. He was drawn to her like water to a river and he almost reached for her when his cell rang.
Warren’s voice hit his ear. “My security detail should be there by now.”
“I’ll check.” He moved to the window and saw the lead man at the end of the front walk, AR-15 in hand, his back to the cabin. “They’ve arrived. Thanks Warren.”
“You bet. I also wanted to invite you and Mary to my compound for first meal tomorrow night. I’ll see that we grill some steaks.”
Fergus smiled. “Sounds perfect. See you then.”
When he hung up, he told Mary what Warren had done for them.
Mary glanced at him over her shoulder as she screwed the old-fashioned cork-remover into the cork. “That’s wonderful. Knowing the cabin will be well-guarded, I think I’ll be able to sleep really well.”
He’d make sure she got some good sleep.
But not for a while.
CHAPTER SIX
NOW THAT FERGUS was in a cabin with a strong security team outside, he settled his gaze on Mary’s ass. She wore tight blue jeans and her tank tops rode up just enough that he could see the exact shape of each bun. He already knew what she looked like naked, which meant his leathers had started to shrink.
Rather than encourage an erection he couldn’t do a damn thing about until after dinner, he turned his attention to a necessary chore. He went around the cabin and shuttered the windows. Given the small size of the space, light could reach the center of any of the rooms once the sun rose. He knew it occasionally happened that a wolf wasn’t completely sun-intolerant, but it was rare.
Fergus, especially, hated sunlight.
With the windows covered, he went to the stairs leading down into the den. From where he stood, he could see the short hall to the right that led to an adjacent bathroom. The bed was visible the opposite direction, as well as flowers sitting on the nightstand. No doubt the women of his pack had brought the bouquet in.
Mary would love them. She’d planted flowers all around her backyard.
“Ready,” Mary called out.
He returned to the kitchen and she handed him a plate. He took it along with a glass of wine she passed his way. “Mary, are you happy? I mean here in Five Bridges. Not Savage, necessarily, but as an alter fae?”
Picking up her plate and wine glass, she cocked her head slightly. “I suppose I am. I mean I still wish for my old life in the human part of Phoenix. I think most of us do.” He let her move past him.
He followed her into the living area, set his plate and goblet down on the table, then pulled her chair out for her.
She seemed surprised, but smiled up at him as she sat down. “Thank you. I guess I didn’t expect—” She broke off.
He chuckled. “You can’t offend me. But I could probably finish that sentence a dozen different ways. Say, you didn’t expect a wolf to have manners, politeness, consideration, or any of the above. Am I close?”
She spoke quietly. “This is Savage. The territory is well-named.”
He sat down and sipped his wine. “I admit I was more civilized before coming to Five Bridges. For one thing, I never thought I’d serve as a border patrol officer or any kind of peacekeeper armed with a gun.” He set his goblet down, considering. “But I’ll bet you’re also thinking about your sister, Alicia, and how she died.”
“Her death is rarely far from my thoughts.”
As he took a bite of meatloaf, he couldn’t help but wonder about Mary. Could a sensitive woman like her ever fit into Savage? If not, why was she here? Why had she become part of his wild, Savage life?
The rich smell of the meatloaf, however, called strongly to him suddenly and his stomach rumbled. He needed food, both to recover and to prepare for his upcoming dominance battle with Sydon.
He tried not to eat too fast, but given that he was still healing up from the heart-skewering, he had a hard time checking his speed. He wasn’t even aware he’d stopped making conversation, until Mary set another slab of the savory ground beef on his plate.
He chuckled as he looked up from his plate. “Sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize. I’m on my se
cond portion as well, though I think I’m getting full.”
By the time he was done, Mary was already leaning back in her chair. She held her glass in one hand as she glanced around the room. “This is nice,” she said. “Restful. Let me know when you’re ready for some pie. There’s vanilla ice cream in the freezer, too.”
Now that his pressing need for food was taken care of, the other demanding aspect of his alpha nature rose like a rocket. He was pretty sure he’d even forgo pie for what he wanted next.
She leaned toward him, her nose sniffing the air. “What am I smelling?”
He lowered his chin. “Me.”
~ ~ ~
Mary had actually been thinking about having Fergus start a fire in the pot-belly stove. Though it was early June in the Arizona desert, and hot during the day, the middle of the night was still cool enough to fire up some logs. Maybe they could sit and talk, get to know each other in real-time. But apparently, the wolf was already burning hot because the smell of his musk meant only one thing.
Besides, his scent had already started teasing her between her legs. As desire built, her gaze fell to his long, thick hair. She wanted her hands buried in it, feeling the texture through her fingers. She longed for his mouth pressed against hers. He had wonderful lips and his kisses were like heaven.
She thought back to the reality that they’d been serious lovers for at least four weeks. She even questioned again whether she should keep the dreamglide blocks in place anymore.
As she considered the possibility of having full possession of all her memories of their time together, another series of images leaked through to her conscious mind. In this dreamglide experience, she’d practiced making the unique braid sequence Sharon had created for him. The whole time, he’d had two of his fingers buried inside her, slowly working her sex until she was writhing. She’d kissed him often, savoring his lips and the way he would drive his tongue into her mouth.
Ecstasy had finally torn her away from the braiding task, but she’d held onto his hair as he’d entered her. He’d planted his mouth on hers and quickly brought her to a powerful climax.
Watching him rise from his chair now, his dark eyes glinting, she set aside her tidy-up-after-every-meal habit and joined him. She set her glass down firmly, then headed to the stairs. He was right behind her and looped his arm around her waist. She squealed when he lifted her off her feet, swooped her down the stairs and into the den.
When he set her down, he turned to close the soundproof door, then locked it up.
They were finally alone.
He wheeled back to her, grabbed her in a quick embrace, and kissed her once on the lips. “Shower first.” She understood. He’d been flying and battling. He needed to get cleaned up.
He said nothing more, but sprinted toward the bathroom. She would have joined him if he’d extended the invitation, but her faeness sensed he didn’t want to heat things up until they were in bed together. She also knew that he’d bite her again, a thought that sent shivers of anticipation pouring in hot waves over her body.
With the shower running, she glanced around the small room. She was locked up with a wolf and the idea of it created the familiar tugging sensation deep in the center of her lower abdomen, the same way she’d felt when he’d made love to her earlier.
Something was happening to her that felt very un-fae. She wondered if she was experiencing the early stages of the mysterious mate-bonding of an alpha wolf to his woman.
She took deep breaths, but they came out like a wolf’s growl. She huffed through her nostrils in quick bursts. She began to travel the room, sniffing the chest of drawers. She smelled Fergus’s complex wolf scent, then Sharon’s scent, though much fainter. Farther back were the smells of other alters and humans that no doubt owned the furniture even before Fergus.
On the dresser was a photograph of him with Sharon in what must have been their human lives. They looked young, in love, happy. Behind them were the red cliffs of Sedona, the photo probably taken near their resort. Though Mary had transferred her veterinarian practice to Five Bridges, both Fergus and Sharon had been forced to relinquish an extraordinary life.
She could understand Sharon’s profound disappointment in her alter existence.
She wondered suddenly if Sharon was here. Would she watch them having sex? She didn’t seem like a woman who cared too much about boundaries.
Mary moved to the nightstand and slowly stripped off her double tanks. She folded them and set them on a nearby rocking chair. The wolf in her felt strong, demanding. She wanted different things from Fergus this time. Would he give them to her?
She growled again, the sound vibrating along her throat. She loved the feel of it. She liked the idea of being very physical with the wolf tonight. Savage troubled her and maybe it always would. But the part of her slowly becoming wolf gave her an unexpected thrill. She’d even begun to understand why Alicia had been so drawn to the wolves of Savage.
On the nightstand was an old brass compass and a trio of antique books. Had Sharon brought these here? Probably, because each carried her scent.
A vase of flowers brightened the entire room. She leaned close and breathed in the fragrance. Her nostrils flared as she tipped her head back. She lost track of how many lines of redolence she detected, a dozen, two dozen, a hundred?
The human nose could only smell one; this was a rose, that was a carnation. But her wolf senses caught layers and layers of odors and fragrances. She smelled fields alive with growth, the rich earth, the freshness of the rain, even the way the scents changed as the sun rose and fell.
She felt alive in ways she’d never been before. Her body hummed with her need for Fergus and glancing at her wrists, she saw a thin dusting of light wolf fur.
The queen size bed, with a black wrought iron headboard, was almost pressed up to the far side of the small space. Sleeping with Fergus through the day, as big as he was, would be close and intimate.
A quilt lay on top. Again, she leaned down and smelled all the fingers that had once labored over the antique patchwork made up of small two-inch squares. Dozens of hands through the distance of time. She could hear the women talking about love, life and their children.
Reverently, she began folding the quilt back in careful panels until she could slide it over the wood chest at the end of the bed. Other wolves had lived here. She could smell them, those who had preceded Fergus and Sharon. They were gone now, each and every one, lost in pack wars or dominance fights that had ended tragically many years ago. All this she could detect or maybe it was the fae part of her that sensed the past, she wasn’t sure.
When Fergus rose to serve as alpha, he’d kept the cabin, maybe for unexpected times like this, like losing a dominance battle with a murderous wolf like Sydon.
With her fae senses combined with her wolf abilities, she knew Savage was riddled with dens just like this one, cool, closed off, and dark. Only a single lamp lit the space and the bulb had a low wattage. The wolf in her loved it, loved the solitude, the sense that being here with Fergus was private and belonged only to them.
Across from the foot of the bed was a beautiful wood paneling, like nothing she’d scene. She was pretty sure the wood was called burl. How odd to see it here, but the grain looked as though an ocean wave had washed up on the seashore, leaving foamy patterns in the sand behind.
She decided she loved this room, the simple beauty of it, the warmth, the presence of others who’d come before. No other rooms were in the wolf-den, just a bathroom and a bedroom. The space was for sleeping, love-making, maybe healing after a battle and a lot of nothing-held-back howling.
Fergus could let loose now.
So could she.
Having examined every part of the space, she began stripping out of her shoes and jeans. She removed her bra and her panties and folded everything up, setting her shoes on the floor and her clothes on the tank tops already on the rocker.
Standing naked on the rag-rug carpet, she closed her eyes and
listened intently to Fergus in the shower. She could hear the pleasure he felt as the warm water beat on his body. He wolf-moaned softly, the sound just shy of a howl.
A half-minute more, and the water shut off.
She waited for him, her body tingling in anticipation. She touched the soft fur on her wrists and took deep breaths.
When he finally stepped into the small hall between the stairs and the bathroom, he wore only a towel around his waist.
His chin was low, and he growled as his gaze skated over her body.
But she held up a hand. When she spoke, she sounded hoarse, very wolf, very different from her more human-like fae voice. “This is my time with you, Fergus. It doesn’t belong to you, but to me.”
His nose wrinkled, and he bared his teeth. “You’re taking control?”
She smiled as his demanding wolf scent swirled around her. “Right now I am,” she said. She pointed to the bed. “I want you there, waiting for me, because when I’m done with my shower, I’m taking you into the dreamglide.”
At that, at the mention of something so essentially fae, his wolf retreated and his eyes flared. He made a huffing sound at the back of his throat. “You’ll remember all the times we’ve been together.”
She nodded slowly. “And I’m ready to remove the blocks so that I can keep remembering in real-time.”
He dipped his chin in acquiescence. “If you want to take charge, I’m game.”
He passed by her slowly, but didn’t do more than take her hand briefly and offer a single squeeze as he moved in the direction of the bed. His long black hair was damp. When he reached the bed, he unbound the towel at his hips and tossed it to her.
She caught it, then watched as he stretched out on his back.
She didn’t head to the shower right away. Instead, she allowed herself to take in the pure animal beauty of his body, the heaviness of his muscles, his leanness, the size and shape of his cock and testicles.