Haunted Wolves: Green Pines, Book 2

by Moira Rogers

  Dedication

  For Viv, who never met any person or situation in which she could not find the good.

  Chapter One

  The pull of the moon sang in her blood, and Lorelei fell into it.

  She’d been more desperate to shed her skin and run under the silvered light before, but not by much. Each day brought new challenges, new hurdles to clear. Apparently, declaring sanctuary for abused and beleaguered wolves was easy. Making it a reality? Not so much.

  Mae ran with her, at her side but always that one step behind. Weeks of safety had settled some of the girl’s worst fears, but still she hung back, more than willing to let Lorelei charge ahead. Trusting her to set their course.

  So much responsibility, as much as she’d had in Memphis. Funny how it felt lighter here, in the absence of constant, grinding danger. Light enough for Lorelei to slow her stride, making the run easier for her companion. There was nothing to escape, no one to outrun.

  But Mae tired more easily. As they circled near the clearing where most of the pack had left their clothes, Mae veered off, her sides heaving with panted breaths by the time they reached the tangle of fabric she’d left behind. She dropped to the grass and started the slow, agonizing process of regaining her human form.

  It took a while, and by the time Mae knelt on the ground in her human skin, Lorelei had already gathered the girl’s clothes for her. “It’s getting too cold to lounge around naked. Before long, we’ll have to build a fire before we run.”

  “Next month, for sure.” Mae wiggled into her underwear and jeans, but bypassed her shirt in favor of hauling Shane’s hoodie over her head. “I may need a heater in the barn, though I guess I could move some of the supplies inside.”

  It was only October. “There has to be something safe to use in the barn. I’ll ask Kaley.”

  “Yeah, she’ll know.” Mae settled on the grass, pulled on her socks and tossed a blanket to Lorelei. “You don’t have to stop running if you don’t want to. I know I get tired out before you.”

  It wouldn’t take long to warm the chill off the blanket, but the night beckoned. “I don’t mind hanging out for a—” A scent, familiar but just shy of comforting, tickled Lorelei’s nose. She turned and peered through the darkness, but saw nothing.

  Colin was out there.

  She wrapped the blanket around her body and tucked in the end near her shoulder. “What was I saying?”

  “That you don’t mind hanging out.” Mae snuggled down into her too-large borrowed sweatshirt and patted the grass next to her. “Only if you really don’t mind.”

  “I don’t.” Lorelei stretched out on the grass. “Do you and Kaley have lots left to do before the craft festival?”

  “Mostly the nitpicky stuff.” Mae sighed. “I like that part, usually. The packaging. Turning a skein of yarn or a bar of soap into a product. But it’s never had so much hanging on it before. It’s more pressure.”

  The festival was a yearly event, combining craft sales with harvest festivities. Though relatively small, it drew enough regional media coverage to mean the difference between Mae’s soap business garnering a healthy local customer base or languishing in obscurity. “You can count on me for putting in booth hours or whatever else you need.”

  “I know. Thank you.” Mae pressed her forehead to Lorelei’s shoulder, the quiet touch of a wolf who needed pack. “Shane’s making us a fancy new website—well, upgrading the one I designed. I don’t really know what he’s doing, but I guess it’s going to be high-tech, maybe help manage inventory and invoices. We’ll be a real business.”

  “I know. And you can do it, too. I have faith in you.”

  “That’s why we can do it. Because you had faith.”

  It left Lorelei feeling strangely self-conscious. “No, you and Kaley were already making plans.”

  Mae shook her head. “We were trying to, but we wouldn’t have gotten out of Memphis without you. I’m just…grateful, that’s all. Nothing bad’s happened in a month, and maybe that means it works. We’re going to be okay. So I’m grateful.”

  Desperate but hopeful, the words of someone life had not yet broken. Lorelei patted Mae’s hand. “You are going to be okay.”

  “I am.”

  A howl drifted out of the trees, joyous and answered immediately by a second and then a third. It was Mae’s turn to pat Lorelei’s hand as she drew away and rose to her knees. “Go. I’ll be safe walking to the house. Colin’s probably out there, waiting to follow me home.”

  She’d given no indication, but maybe she had noticed his presence. “I think you may be right.” Lorelei stood, folded the blanket and held it out. “I’ll see you later.”

  Mae smiled and headed for the barn. Lorelei caught that hint of Colin’s scent again, but instead of drifting away after Mae, it grew stronger. Magic sparked behind her, and Colin stepped out of the trees. “Were you going to run again?”

  Awareness prickled over her skin, but she resisted the urge to cover herself. Instead, she indulged in a slow appraisal of his naked body—he deserved it for spying, after all—and shrugged. “I’d considered it.”

  He accepted her scrutiny with a too-still expression, the kind that had to be deliberate because his face was so rarely devoid of emotion. “If you don’t want company, I can leave. Just thought I’d offer. Shane will make sure Mae gets back all right.”

  “Do I want company,” Lorelei asked softly, her gaze flicking over his tall, solid form again, “or do I want company?”

  His lips pressed into a flat line. Stern eyes, stern expression, but he used the same voice with her that he used with Mae when panic gripped her—the soft, soothing tone of a man comforting a broken girl. “You know that’s not required of you here, and it never will be again. Company, Lorelei, that’s all this is. Pack to run with.”

  She couldn’t blame him for the assumption—that she’d be fucking him for safety and protection, not pleasure. What else could he think? Everyone knew she’d been the one to bargain for their safety in Memphis…and everyone knew exactly how she’d done it.

  What they didn’t know was that she refused to feel bad about it.

  She walked past him, keenly aware of the tingles that cascaded through her when her shoulder brushed his, sparking a heat the chilly autumn night couldn’t quell entirely. “All you had to say was no, thanks.”

  Colin turned and caught her arm, but he released her without tightening his grip, as if touching her at all had been a moment of lost self-control. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—” But he cut himself off with a sigh. “Never mind.”

  “Stop apologizing.” She hopped up and balanced on a fallen log for a few seconds before stepping off the other side. “You don’t owe it to me.”

  “Maybe I owe it to myself.”

  “That’s none of my business.” And then she couldn’t believe the words that came out of her mouth. “But if you want to talk, I’ll listen.”

  Colin shook his head, but not without a tiny smile. “Maybe another time. Moon’s still calling me pretty hard. I’ll be even more irritable than usual if I don’t run it out.”

  She could feel it too, a jagged need that pulsed through the air, and it reminded her of other, more carnal, needs. Best not to stick around, especially if he planned to keep his hands to himself. “I’m going to call it a night.”

  “Do you want me to walk you back?”

  “I’ll make it. No need to worry about me.”

  “No way to stop me.” He nodded once, an oddly formal gesture. “Have a good night, Lorelei.”

  Good night, Batman. She bit her lip against the words. She shouldn’t tease, but it fit him so well—broody and handsome, the dark aveng
er hell-bent on protecting them all from the injustices of the world. A woman could drown in a man like that, lose herself completely.

  Good thing his need to protect her extended to her own self-destructive physical desires.

  She turned away. “Good night, Colin.”

  Colin roamed the woods until the last wolf made its way back to the farm. It wasn’t his job—not really—but lingering under the moon on four paws burned through the worst of his feral edge. The alphas of their new pack had undoubtedly disappeared together to burn off that edge in a different way, but Colin wasn’t jealous of his friend’s domestic bliss.

  He wasn’t. Really. Okay, maybe the bliss part. He’d been in the backwoods of Tennessee for a month now, and a cold bed got old fast. But domestic?

  That had never been him.

  Shivering in the cool evening air, Colin tugged on his jeans and sweatshirt before making the short walk to the larger farmhouse barefoot. Green Pines was a sprawling property with two full houses, an impressive barn and woods enough to support a pack, but it still felt small on nights like this. He’d spent years crisscrossing the country, and now his world had shrunk to a tiny Southern town and a farmhouse that hadn’t been modern since his grandfather’s time.

  Light spilled out of the living room and across the back porch, proof that someone was awake. Colin wasn’t surprised to find Shane sprawled on the couch with a six-pack of beer, his brooding expression a fine match for Colin’s own feelings.

  Good. At least he’d have company. Colin leaned over the couch to steal a beer without bothering to ask for permission, then hopped over to sprawl next to Shane. “Mae made it back okay?” The question was largely unnecessary, but it soothed Colin’s need to triple-check every detail.

  Shane finished his beer and nodded. “She runs off the worst of it and she’s done. Don’t think she likes it very much.”

  “Probably not, all things considered.” Yeah, all things considered. What a prissy, evasive way of glossing over why they were all here. He could add it to the end of anything to make himself feel smug and guilty at the same time. No surprise Lorelei doesn’t want to look at your face, all things considered.

  Lorelei and Mae had been through shit he didn’t want to think about. Things he couldn’t afford to forget.

  “It’s easier being alone, isn’t it?”

  Colin had suspected that Shane’s wanderlust might be stirring. Opening his beer, he tilted his head. “Less responsibility alone,” he said after a moment. “At least for you and me. We’re safe by ourselves.”

  “Yeah.” Shane studied him in the near darkness. “Do you ever think you might want to be part of a pack again?”

  A serious question that deserved a serious answer. “I kind of already am, man. I can believe in what Jay’s doing here as alpha.”

  “So can I. Providing sanctuary… It’s a damn noble thing.”

  Using their strength to do something positive. Colin had used his to end the lives of tyrants, but more always rose up to fill those vacancies. And what about the collateral damage? How many women like Lorelei had he left behind, knowing they were hurt but telling himself someone else would step up to heal them?

  Too many. Too damn many. “You thinking about sticking around, Shane?” He needed to change the subject before his mind started playing with regrets. “The girls like you more than any of us.”

  Shane grinned, an expression tempered with as much gravity as humor. “Because I’m not an asshole.”

  True enough. Colin lifted his beer in salute. “Every pack needs one.”

  “Or three.”

  “I’m worth three all on my own.”

  “Bullshit. You have the whole hero thing going on.”

  Colin choked on a laugh. “Don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, buddy, but heroes tend to be the biggest assholes of all.”

  “And yet they seem to wind up with the happy endings.”

  “Not this time.” He took a long sip of his beer and shook his head. “No happy endings for us. Jay stole the only woman who’s not off limits.”

  Shane arched a brow and grabbed another beer. “Stella’s fair game, but I’ve noticed you not noticing her.”

  Shit. Busted. “Hey, Stella’s a nice girl, for a witch. But have you noticed her not noticing me either?”

  “As a matter of fact, I have. She still has her eye on Zack.”

  Zack. The crazy, tortured bastard who’d started all of this by refusing to die, no matter what the twisted sadists in Memphis wanted. “Can’t compete with that. Women love a fixer-upper.”

  “I think they all really do love him, at least a little bit.” Shane’s murmur sounded almost like a warning.

  Enough was enough. Feeling protective of Lorelei was acceptable, but having an interest in her—the kind that would require worrying about whether or not she was in love with her former alpha—would get his ass kicked. Colin played dumb. “Something you’re trying to tell me?”

  “A reminder,” Shane said mildly. “For both of us.”

  Both of them. Mae ran around the farm wrapped in Shane’s sweatshirts like they were her own personal armor, but Colin had assumed it was about safety, nothing more. Shane had a knack for understanding what a wolf needed, even if he’d never had much charisma with people.

  Maybe Colin wasn’t the only one having trouble with the line between protecting and caring. “Doesn’t matter. It can’t. They’re safe, but that’s a long way from healed.”

  That furrowed his friend’s brow. “I’m pretty sure we don’t get to decide what matters. There’s what does and what doesn’t, and denying it is useless.”

  Christ. “Fine, it matters. It just isn’t relevant to anything I plan on doing. I’m here to be Jay’s backup. To fight when I have to, and to keep people safe when I don’t. That’s it.”

  “Of course that’s it,” Shane said innocently. “Want another beer?”

  “Fuck you.” He leaned over and snatched up another beer anyway. “I don’t poke you about the fact that you’re running out of sweatshirts, asshole.”

  “It’s what Mae needs from me.” Butter wouldn’t have melted in Shane’s mouth. “What does Lorelei need from you?”

  Good damn question. And more importantly, how the hell had Shane figured out the answer to that question before Colin had?

  Probably because Shane was good with wolves, if not people. Colin, on the other hand, wasn’t good with anyone. “I don’t know.”

  “But you think she needs something.”

  It would be too easy to believe, if only because he wanted to be the one to fulfill her needs. “I don’t know. I really don’t. Maybe she needs guys like me to stay away.”

  Shane shrugged. “So what’s wrong with asking her?”

  Colin couldn’t help but eye him curiously. “Is that what you did with Mae?”

  “I didn’t have to. But I would have—if her signals hadn’t been so clear.”

  The only signals Colin had ever picked up from Mae were terror, submission and the painful kind of hope that was so fragile, he was afraid of getting anywhere near her. Hope that delicate could be crushed with a harsh word. “Do you think Lorelei’s signals are clear too?”

  Instead of answering, Shane rose. “You want the rest of the beer?”

  Of course it couldn’t be that easy. “No, thanks.”

  “Suit yourself.” He snagged the pack and headed up the stairs.

  Colin had known Shane for too many years to be offended. The man understood computers and wolves, but trying to convince him that it was rude to walk out of a conversation with another human was a useless fucking task.

  Sighing, Colin rose with his own half-empty beer, turned—and came face to face with Kaley.

  Shit. How long had the third remaining member of Zack’s little pack been listening? “Hey, Kaley.”

  She reached out and took his beer. “A word of friendly advice?”

  Shit shit shit. “Yeah?”

  “Lorelei’s brok
en,” she said. “We all are, even you. Being broken doesn’t make you helpless, and it doesn’t mean you don’t know what you want.”

  If she’d been Mae or Lorelei, he might have been able to accept the words without comment. But Kaley, the youngest of the refugees from the original pack, was also the strongest. An alpha in the making, a woman who would mature into a serious threat to any man.

  She was enough of a threat now to have his wolf bristling. “I’m not broken.”

  “Okay.” She drained the beer and handed him the empty bottle.

  Feeling stupid and guilty, he forced himself past the discomfort of exposing a weakness and tried to concentrate on Kaley’s words. On what she was trying to say, not how it affected him. “Fine, I might be a little broken. And it does make me confused about what I want. But the thing is, what I want doesn’t matter right now. That’s the deal I made when I came here.”

  She nodded. “All right.” She turned for the stairs but stopped at the bottom. “Zack’s hurting. Don’t call him a fixer-upper.”

  The only right answer wasn’t the truth, so Colin settled for the middle ground. “All men are fixer-uppers, honey. We spend our lives looking for a woman who likes us well enough to put up with our shit.”

  Kaley smiled at that. “I can’t tell if you’re the most charming man alive, or just as muddled and lost as the rest of us.”

  There was the girl he was used to, the one who made him want to ruffle her hair and call her kiddo and give her a safe place to come into her strength. “Must be the lost-and-muddled thing, because Fletcher’s the most charming man alive. He’ll tell you so if you stay still more’n five minutes.”

  “I’ll watch out for that. Keep light on my feet.”

  “Duck and roll, kiddo.” This time, he did reach out to muss her hair. “Don’t mind me and Shane, all right? We’re just not used to being domesticated. Staying in one place takes practice after a lifetime of running.”

  “Bad habits are hard to break,” she teased.

  “Yeah, they are.” Relieved that she’d forgiven him enough to smile, he grinned at her in return. “You can whack me on the nose with a newspaper if you want.”