Mated to the Wolf

by Bonnie Vanak

  Numb with shock, she went to the bed and sat. Samantha stared at her wrist.

  “Take it out,” she said dully.

  He hesitated. “I’ve got the tools, but no anesthetic. It’s going to hurt.”

  “I don’t want anything foreign inside me, take it out!”

  The procedure was painful, but she gritted her teeth as he probed and prodded. Minutes later, he plunked a small microchip onto a plate. Grayson bound her wrist with gauze.

  “This should heal fast now that the white light inside you is at full power.”

  Her furious gaze met his wary one. “The white light wasn’t what healed me. My demon strength took care of that. But it’s all gone now. I want my powers back, Grayson. And don’t tell me we have to have sex again for it to happen.”

  “I can’t do that. Not until you stop this obsession with finding your parents’ killer.”

  “So it’s down to blackmail? You’d keep me weak and dependent?”

  “Not by choice. It’s for your protection. The minute you regain demon strength, you’re a target.”

  “I’d take my chances, but you removed the choice from me. You betrayed me, my trust, damn it.” She fisted her trembling hands. “You know what that feels like?”

  Lines of strain bracketed his mouth. “I do. I’m sorry, Samantha. It wasn’t my choice. I wasn’t about to let anyone hurt you. It’s my duty to protect you and I will not go against it. Never again.”

  White light inside her pulsed, longing to heal the old hurt in his eyes. It pushed her into surrendering her anger. Samantha touched his arm, feeling the muscles quiver. “Then make amends. Give me my powers back and then show me how to find balance. Work with me, Grayson.”

  His mouth compressed to a tight slash as he walked away. “I can’t.”

  “You won’t. Because you don’t trust me.”

  “Give me a reason to trust that you won’t race off to find Jerome Cabot and kill him and I may reconsider. I’m not turning my back on you.”

  Not since her parents’ deaths had she felt this empty. Even her anger was gone. She was shadow now, as gentle and weak as a baby. As helpless.

  “And I never turn my back on a Hunter. The last time I did, one killed my parents.”

  His expression shuttered. “It wasn’t your fault, Samantha. You had nothing to do with their deaths.”

  Anger shimmered inside her, fierce and bright. She welcomed the sting of rage. “I could have stopped him. I should have slit his throat instead of hiding like a coward.”

  “No, you couldn’t have. It wasn’t in you.”

  His deep voice was gentle. Pity was bad. It tore down her defenses, tugged her away from the path she’d chosen. She couldn’t lose sight of the goal. So what if her darkness was gone. She didn’t need her demon to kill.

  A butcher knife would suffice for the Hunter who killed her parents. Make him scream and burn.

  Samantha watched as he went to the window, lifted the curtain. His expression tightened.

  “Get dressed. We’re leaving right now.”

  “I’m not taking orders from you.”

  “Fine. Want to take them from them.?” He lifted the curtain.

  The cabin was set on a small rise, giving a clear view of the long road leading to it. In the distance were two black cars.

  “After they’ve cleared the barricades, they’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”

  She peered out. “The Society’s team, checking to make sure we’re lovers?”

  Grayson dropped the curtain. “Worse. Russell, enforcer in my pack, and an entire contingent of shifters. They’re not here to pay a social call.”

  “They’re after me, too?” Sweat popped out on her forehead. She rubbed her arms, feeling weak and trembling.

  His jaw tensed. “Not you. Me. And when they finish with me, they won’t let anything of mine remain standing. Including you.”

  Bitter cold stung Samantha’s cheeks. The thick sheepskin coat, new cords and cable-knit sweater did little to ward off her inner chill. Wisps of hair escaped her tight bun, making her wish for a thick wool cap. She hugged herself as Grayson led her to a path into the forest behind the cabin. Their footprints vanished behind them.

  “An old spell I cast on the land,” he explained as they crossed the meadow. “My enemies can’t sense my scent or see any marks I’ve made.”

  “What enemies? The families of the victims you’ve hunted?”

  “My former pack, the ones coming here.” Beneath the terse words lingered a shadow of deep pain. She wondered what happened. Why were they running?

  Frosty blades of grass crunched beneath their boots, then magically straightened. It was like watching a film in backwards slo-mo, she thought. If only my life could be the same.

  She felt her muscles protest as she walked. Samantha winced. He turned, stopped, looked at her. The blue of his eyes contrasted to the black leather jacket and black cords. Scarlet stained his cheeks from the wind’s sharp bite. She wondered about that. Grayson was a wolf, and unaffected by the cold.

  “Are you too sore from last night?”

  His calm, steady gaze flustered her. “Nothing I can’t handle. Except you could have bought better underwear.”

  A sexy grin touched his mouth. “You don’t like the lace thongs? I bought different colors.”

  No amount of charm could douse her anger. Samantha held onto it like a drowning woman. “Where are we going?”

  “I have a hideout about six miles ahead. Small, but camouflaged, off the public records. Warded against danger. You’ll be safe there. My magick is powerful.”

  They began walking again. “And you? I gather you’re not staying? Going shopping to get an early start on Christmas? Thinking about using your new demon powers to start a forest fire? Maybe go out and conquer the world?”

  “Heading back here to confront them.”

  Samantha stared at his broad shoulders. “They’re coming here to kill you and you’re taking them on alone? Is this some macho thing?”

  His warm breath misted the air as he exhaled deeply. “Reasoning with them. If I challenge Russell and win, the others will listen to me.” His voice was quiet. “I don’t want to hurt him, but they leave me no choice.”

  “Why did they kick you out?”

  The only response she got was the crunch of undergrowth beneath his boots. Samantha jogged after him. She wanted answers, but sensed he wouldn’t give them easily. “Why can’t you talk to me? Tell me what we’re facing. I hate being in the dark. I have no more demon powers, so what are you afraid of?”

  Grayson halted, turned. “I’m afraid of what will happen to you.” He touched her nose, the playfulness of the gesture dimmed by his solemn expression. “I swore to myself I’d take good care of you. I told the Society I’d take good care of you. And that can’t happen until I finally face my pack and get them off my tail, pardon the pun.”

  His concern dampened her earlier anger. Or maybe it was the angel goody-goodness nagging her to forgive. “Then let me help you.”

  “I’m going to do my job, it’s my duty to take care of matters. I won’t risk you getting hurt.”

  As they reached the forest’s edge, he stopped and bent over. Deep, gasping breaths sounded as if he struggled to breathe. Samantha touched his arm.

  “Grayson, what’s wrong?”

  He straightened, his face an alarming grayish pallor. “Damned coffee must have been too strong. Stomach’s a little off. Stay here. Be right back.”

  He jogged into the woods. A minute later, a terrible screeching followed.

  Her heart went still at the sound.

  Chapter Seven

  Must not show weakness, Grayson thought Samantha couldn’t see him like this.

  Reaching the covering of thick woods, he doubled over, and then slumped to the ground. Dazed, he tried to regain his composure as a white-hot pain raced through his veins.

  What the hell had just happened? It felt like the venom was still insi
de. Splitting him in half.

  He sat on the forest floor, head in his hands. What a damn mess. Not only did he have Samantha to worry about, try to keep safe, keep his secret from her. His former pack hunting for him.

  Memories surged. He’d lied about his parents, and siblings. Grayson hadn’t seen them in years. He didn’t know if they still lived.

  Sometimes when the snow fell softly on the meadow, and he stood at the window studying the splash of silver moon, he thought of them. Remembered running with them in the winter, through the cold snow. Returning to their lodge, shifting back into human form and snuggling before the fire. His sisters would pass plates of cookies while they drank hot chocolate, and his brothers argued about who was the fastest. The arguments would end with his father telling tales of their family from long ago, when wolves ran wild and free through the west.

  He missed the closeness of family, of knowing he belonged, of feeling warmth and joy.

  He belonged to no one now.

  At times like this, an acute ache settled on his chest. He would stare at the moon, feeling a slight comfort that they shared the same silvery light.

  Then he would turn away from the wind crackling through the trees, the snow dancing across his porch. Grayson would drop the curtain, shutting away the light.

  The memory tore at him with sharp claws. Agony raked across his stomach. He screamed as he felt himself torn asunder. And then as his body gave a great shudder, dark light spilling out of his fingers, he realized what had happened.

  Too late, he thought dimly, and fainted.

  Grayson had been inside the forest only minutes. But Samantha was worried.. The white light inside her surged, struggling to leave her body as if sensing a great need. She slammed it back, knowing that she needed all her strength for the walk ahead. But worry still riddled her, until Grayson emerged, his face its usual tanned color, his stride determined.

  “Are you all right? That scream…you worried me,” she whispered.

  “Let’s go,” he said tersely.

  The woods were thick with pine, oak and aspen. Wan sunlight dappled the leafless branches, the dead leaves and twigs on the pathway. He didn’t talk, but walked at a breakneck pace. Samantha struggled to keep up.

  The climb upward was arduous, the altitude burning her lungs with each breath. Thick forest became less dense, strewn with granite boulders. By the time they reached the summit of the mountain, she was winded, exhausted and hungry. Samantha leaned against a sapling, her fingers stiff and cold in the black leather gloves.

  Grayson held out a palm. “Let’s go. If you can’t walk, I’ll carry you.”

  She struggled to leash her temper at his impatience. “I don’t need your help. Just food.”

  “Food’s in the cabin.”

  “What’s on the other side of this mountain?”

  “You won’t find out if we don’t move.”

  The pathway led downward this time and then out onto a wide, open valley. Yellowed meadow grass met the stark, bare aspen saplings. Ringing the valley were the whitened peaks of the Rockies. The sky above was a sharp blue, showing the emptiness below, broken by a collapsed log cabin.

  “It’s just ahead.” He increased his pace, making her breathe harder. A painful cramp seized her side. Samantha grabbed his arm to stop him.

  “There’s nothing but an old ruin.”

  But five minutes later, a two-story house with a pitched roof and floor-to-ceiling windows replaced the battered ruin. Samantha gasped, impressed. “How did that happen?”

  “I told you, my magick is powerful. Bastards can never find you here.” He gave a little laugh, so different from his warm, throaty chuckle. This laugh sounded malicious.

  The cabin was larger than his home, with soaring ceilings and a wide, open living space with a kitchen. Sheepskin rugs scattered over the pine floor. A bank of glass windows overlooked the meadow below, and French doors opened to a small balcony with tables and chairs. Samantha plopped down on the leather sofa, rubbing her hands. She glanced at Grayson, rummaging in the cabinets. Soon the delicious smells of soup filled the air.

  They ate at the kitchen table with full view of the valley. The rice and tomato soup was canned, but delicious and hot. He’d made ham-and-cheese sandwiches, too, and served them with hot chocolate.

  She finished her last bite and pushed back the bowl. Strength slowly seeped back into her limbs, warmed her insides. But Grayson was flushed and ate little.

  “You don’t look well.” Samantha went to him, put a hand on his brow. It was cool as the outside air.

  “I’m fine,” he snapped.

  “You keep looking flushed, and then pale. Maybe my demon powers are too much for you.”

  He grunted and pushed back from the table. “I can handle them.”

  “Being a demon isn’t easy,” she insisted, following him as he went down a long hallway. “Only a high-spirited person, who isn’t inclined to crankiness and being uptight, can manage the powers. Bottling it up inside isn’t the answer. Let loose.”

  At a bedroom doorway, he turned. “Are you saying I’m uptight?”

  “Take a deep breath once in a while. Maybe a vacation in the Azores. Let your hair down. The demon would like that. He’s never been to the beach. Be spontaneous.”

  Grayson took a step forward, his eyes a little wild, his expression intent. “You like spontaneity, don’t you? It drives you, makes your heart beat, your breath catch.”

  Samantha couldn’t move as he leaned forward, removed the clasp holding her hair pinned back. It spilled in a waterfall around her shoulders. He came so close she could count the stubble on his jaw, yet he’d shaved this morning. She’d heard the scrape of the razor over taut skin, seen the peppery stubble in the sink before he’d washed it away.

  Dipping his head, he nuzzled her neck, his breath warm against her chilled skin. Breathing in her scent like an animal. Grayson’s fingers gripped her shoulders as he met her eyes, his expression wild. He seized her chin in his hand, his mouth hovering near hers.

  “Maybe I should start being spontaneous right now. Starting in the bedroom.”

  Was it a full moon? He acted as if his wolf had seized control.

  A river rock fireplace faced the king-sized pine bed. Another bank of tall windows overlooked the serene valley. The view was lovely, but she was too caught up in the Ancient standing before her. Grayson pulled her into his arms. His kiss was rough, passionate. He tasted of soup and his own unique spice, and something darker, sinful. As his tongue plunged into her mouth, she wondered if her demon had taken over.

  He gave her no time to think further as he fisted his hand in her hair, and deepened the kiss. Grayson stroked his tongue deeper, nipped at her lips. She teased and sucked, relishing the hot passion.

  “You’re an animal,” she murmured.

  “Naturally. With you my wild side comes out. Take off your clothes and lay down on the bed.” His deep velvet voice was a lick of fire between her legs.

  She did as he asked, watching as he undressed. Naked, he moved around the bed to the dresser.

  “I once entertained certain women here.”

  “Lady friends?”

  “Not friends and not ladies.” Grayson opened a drawer and removed a smooth gleaming phallus the size of his thumb. Samantha’s eyes widened.

  “What…”

  A wicked gleam sparkled in his gray eyes. The taut edges of his profile showed as he turned and removed a tube of lubricant. Smearing on the gel, he sank down on the bed.

  “Roll over,” he instructed.

  The authoritative tone brooked no discussion. Intrigued, she rolled over, felt his warm, rough hands part her cheeks. A furious flush ignited her face.

  “Grayson…”

  “Hush. Just relax. You’ll learn to enjoy it.”

  Slick fingers caressed her bottom, stroked between the twin halves. He rubbed the puckered opening with a liberal application of lubricant.

  The carnality of what h
e did with his hand sent heat rushing through her veins. Odd sensations filled her as he stroked the phallus across her cleft. He murmured to her, sliding the dildo in a teasing caress. Tension filled her body as he toyed with her like a wolf with prey. Her nipples tightened as she suppressed the instinct to squeeze down hard.

  With one hand, he deftly lifted her hips, sliding a palm beneath her groin. Grayson played with her clit as he continued to stroke the phallus. She felt herself opening up. Blushing modesty capitulated to primal instinct as her legs spilled open in a silent plea.

  Gently, he parted her cheeks and pushed the phallus inside her. Pressure increased. Samantha gasped from the strange fullness. It didn’t hurt, but stretched her as he continued to rub her clit. She rocked her hips against his palm, moaning. He pushed the phallus in further.

  “On your knees,” he instructed.

  The pleasure ceased a minute, then began again with the friction of his palm, and the incredible full feeling of the phallus. Grayson leaned over her, penetrated her vaginal opening with his thick cock. He rocked back and forth, his hand moving across her as he thrust.

  Samantha screamed as she climaxed, the twin pressure of the phallus and his penis filling her completely. He grunted, slamming into her, flooding her with his warm seed.

  Collapsing onto the bed, she panted, all inhibitions shed. Gently he removed the phallus, tossed it aside.

  Amusement, not tenderness, danced in his gray eyes as he lay beside her.

  Gulping for breath, her heart racing, she put a hand on his scarred cheek. He stiffened. So unlike his previous actions.

  Confusion filled her. They’d had searing sex, and yet he acted as if she were a stranger. Samantha tried to lighten the tense silence. “I suppose you’ve had many lovers.”

  His jaw turned to stone. “A few. Those who could stand me.”

  This ugly side was new to her. Samantha’s stomach knotted. “There must have been females in your pack who found you irresistible.”

  Her light, teasing tone did not coax out a smile, but a scowl. “My pack leader ousted me, the bastard. I’ve been banished for good.”

  Naked, he rolled over and stood, pacing to the window. Between his splayed legs she caught a glimpse of his resting sex, his heavy sac. Grayson rested a palm against the window.