Wolfrik pushed her unruly hair over her shoulder and nipped her neck. Kallie closed her eyes. A strangled moan tore through her luscious lips.
The sound traveled straight down to his groin, where it pulsed and throbbed, taking on a life of its own.
Wolfrik flipped her around, facing the tree. He took a step back to see if she’d flee, but she made no move to run. Instead she bent forward and lifted her ass.
“I’m not pushing you away now, am I?” Wolfrik whispered against her neck. “Oh, no, Kallie, I plan to do the opposite to you.”
Her whimper made his dick stand on end. He yanked her dress over her hips, exposing a round, full bottom. When he rubbed his length against her, she moaned and rubbed back. The friction breathed fire into Wolfrik’s lungs.
“I know I should be gentle with you, but I can’t. You understand that, don’t you, Kallie? I’m a beast when I fuck—an animal. You sure you want this? Last chance.”
It would have been easier if she’d changed her mind or resigned herself to him, but she didn’t. Instead, she thrust her ass against him and said, “Don’t hold back.”
Panic seized his chest.
When he looked down, he no longer saw Kallie, but a blur of the females before her, all bending over, backs to him, waiting for it to be over.
It felt like chains were dragging him down, despair taking hold.
Some of the females had sobbed quietly, but most made no sound at all. He’d wanted to make it quick, but that wasn’t easy when all he could think about was how the female didn’t want him between her legs to begin with and that he didn’t want to be there either.
Being forced to breed . . . it wasn’t something he’d ever get over.
It’s not the full moon. I can’t impregnate her, he tried to reason with himself. But that thought was drowned out by the horror of his memories. He could handle the scars and the kills he’d been forced to make, but he couldn’t deal with the rapes.
Wolfrik’s lungs seized. He shoved himself away from Kallie and hunched over, gasping for breath.
“Wolfrik? What’s the matter?” Concern laced her words.
“Stay. Away. From. Me.”
Her eyes rounded.
He hadn’t expected to sound so pitiful, so pathetic with those pleading words. He couldn’t bear to see the pity in Kallie’s eyes so he rushed away from her, crashing through the brush and branches, blazing a trail no one would dare follow.
Kallie slumped against a tree, her heart feeling as mangled as her foot. She knew Wolfrik didn’t want her pity, but her soul howled with despair as she remembered his tortured expression and desperate words.
She didn’t want to stay away, and it wasn’t for the reason she’d first sought him out. Now she ached to offer him comfort and make him realize he wasn’t alone.
Lost in a fog of emotions, Kallie took shuffling steps back to the den, coming to a stop outside the clearing to watch children playing, mothers supervising, and fathers already at work on the deer hide.
She didn’t belong here.
Elsie had changed back into her white dress and stood watching the men stretching the strips of hide. When she looked up and noticed Kallie, she waved and started for her.
Kallie forced a smile. At least she wasn’t the only shifter out of place in the den.
As Elsie approached, her smile faded. “Kallie, what happened? Did Wolfrik do something?”
A fresh wave of agony shuddered through Kallie’s body. Her lower lip trembled. She shook her head. “He didn’t do anything.”
Elsie’s lips formed an “O” as she drew out the word in understanding. “Ohhhh. I’m sorry.”
Kallie shrugged, but the motion felt more like defeat than indifference. She kept her eyes trained on the mated males, noticing that Aden had stayed to help.
“I’m sorry, too,” Kallie said. “You shouldn’t be forced to claim a mate because of some agreement your father made.”
It was Elsie’s turn to shrug. “I made my peace with it long ago.”
“How do you feel about Aden?”
Elsie smiled fondly when she looked at him. “He’s too nice. I could never trick him into claiming me.”
“You’re nice, too,” Kallie said. “Any male would be lucky to have you as their mate.”
“Kallie!” Francine’s voice cut across the clearing.
Kallie’s heart sank into her stomach, and she groaned. “If I don’t find out what she wants, she’ll only get louder.”
Each slow step toward Francine reminded Kallie why she needed Wolfrik, or some other single male, to take her as a bedmate. But the thought of any male who wasn’t Wolfrik made her stomach tie up into tight knots.
Francine stood waiting, along with Trish, outside Francine’s shed. She glared in Elsie’s direction but smiled the moment her gaze moved to Kallie.
“Trish and I are making a trip into the glade to bring back some of the deer meat for the den. The protein will be good for the baby.” Francine turned her smile to Trish, who placed her hands on the small swell of her belly. “Would you watch Franny while we’re gone? As you can see, Palmer’s busy with the tanning.” Francine swept an arm in her mate’s direction—one Kallie didn’t follow. She had no desire to look at Palmer with his shirt off, commanding the rest of the males. “She’s asleep right now, so she shouldn’t be any trouble,” Francine added.
“Okay,” Kallie said. She could handle spending time with a sleeping baby, especially when it meant Francine, Trish, and Palmer wouldn’t be around.
Franny did sleep most of the afternoon, and Palmer never poked his head in. Kallie settled on her back on a pile of blankets beside Franny and stretched out her legs. Several times she drifted off, blinking away the fog of sleep when she came to and double-checked that Franny’s little chest rose and fell. She was a precious baby, chubby cheeked with a tuft of brown hair on her head. Kallie leaned in and kissed her soft little forehead.
As early evening rolled around, Kallie wondered why Francine had not yet returned. Franny’s eyes fluttered open, and she began to cry softly.
“There, there,” Kallie said, scooping Franny into her arms.
The baby’s sobs stopped as she reached for Kallie’s breasts.
“Not this again.” Kallie groaned.
At least it kept Franny preoccupied.
“Yoo-hoo,” a female voice called right before Emerson stepped through the shed’s open door, Gina right behind her. “Oh, hello, Kallie.” Emerson flashed her a warm smile.
Franny turned her attention to Emerson and gave a happy coo.
“And hello there, little sis.” Emerson gave Franny a wide grin.
Franny giggled.
“Are Francine and Trish still in the glade?” Kallie asked.
“I don’t know,” Emerson said. “Gina and I met up in the den right after patrol duties ended. Well, maybe a little before.” She winked at Gina and flashed her a sly grin. “We can take over Franny duty,” she said, turning back to Kallie.
“Thanks.” Kallie handed the baby over gratefully.
Emerson took Franny under the arms and turned her so they were face-to-face.
“Who is the cutest little baby ever?” She nuzzled Franny’s nose while Gina stared longingly at Emerson as though she were the cutest thing she’d ever seen.
The diversion didn’t last long before Franny fisted the top of Emerson’s sundress.
“This one is obsessed with boobs,” Emerson said. “Maybe she’ll find herself a sexy female when she gets older.” She laughed.
Gina rolled her eyes. “I’m sure your stepmom would be thrilled.”
Emerson held the baby away from her chest. “Sorry, Franny, there’s only one shifter allowed to touch those.”
Gina shook her red head and expelled the softest huff, but the glow on her face and shine i
n her eyes couldn’t hide her delight.
As Franny’s eyes crinkled, Kallie said a hasty goodbye to Emerson and Gina before the crying began.
“There, there, baby sis,” Emerson tutted. “Mama and Papa Wolf will be back soon.”
Kallie slipped away as Franny wailed, and as luck would have it, the coast was clear, no Palmer or Francine to intercept her as she scuttled to her shelter and crawled inside her cavelike enclosure.
In the gloom of her shelter, it took her eyes a moment to adjust, which is why she didn’t see Palmer at first. He lay naked on his side, atop her blanket, head propped on his hand.
“Hello, Kallie,” he said in a low, husky voice.
Chills of revulsion slithered beneath Kallie’s skin. “What are you doing in here?” she demanded.
Too many white teeth flashed at her. “I came by to thank you for watching Franny.”
“Sure, no problem, you can go now.” Kallie’s eyes darted around her small enclosure, looking for a safe place to focus.
Palmer sat up, planted both hands on the blanket behind him, and leaned back on his arms. “You would make such a wonderful mother, Kallie. There is nothing more miraculous than creating life and caring for your own child. You shouldn’t be denied that opportunity.” He leaned forward, bringing his hands to his lap. “Nor should you be denied affection, love . . . pleasure.”
She caught his heated gaze from the corner of her eyes and shuddered.
“I’ll give you all that and more if only you’ll let me.”
“I already told you, no.”
Kallie recoiled and backed away, stumbling toward the opening of her shelter. Palmer should be the one leaving—he’d invaded her sanctuary—but the urgent need to get away from him was more important than telling him to go.
She hurried across the clearing, grateful Palmer didn’t come scrambling out after her, humiliating her further. They didn’t need to start a scandal where none existed. She half walked, half hopped to the forest trail, not slowing until an army of trees stood between her and Palmer. If her injured foot had a mouth, it would have groaned. Every toe throbbed. Her ankle ached, and spasms traveled up her leg.
The next step nearly pitched her forward onto the ground, but she managed to jerk back in time, pulling a muscle in her lower back.
“Perfect.” Kallie spit the word out as she steadied herself against a tree and glowered at the empty trail.
At least a hundred times a day she wished she could disconnect her mind from her body and step away from the aches and pain. She’d give just about anything to walk normally again. Some days it was hard not to hold a grudge toward the rest of her pack when they had no idea how lucky they were to be able to run and jump without a second thought, and not have to worry about stumbling with every single step they took.
She’d pushed herself too much with Elsie the day before, and now her traitorous leg refused to cooperate.
What then? Should she cling to the tree trunk like a squirrel? It wasn’t like she had anywhere to go. One direction led back to the den and the lecher hounding her; the other led to the glade and the savage who didn’t want her.
Wolfrik had been harsh, but he’d spoken the truth. She was beyond repair.
The dinner stew smelled extra meaty thanks to the kill Aden and Wolfrik had made. Shifters returning to the glade from patrol duty lifted their noses to inhale deeply.
Wolfrik wasn’t sure why he took a seat beside Aden after dishing up. Maybe he felt a twinge of guilt for behaving like a jerk earlier at the river. The werewolf was a good guy, perhaps one of the only males Wolfrik could tolerate as a friend. Teasing him about Elsie had been a dick move. Aden didn’t deserve that.
And Kallie . . . Wolfrik didn’t want to think about her. It only caused stirrings of regret and shame to spin inside his gut.
“Good meat,” Wolfrik commented after swallowing his first bite.
Aden nodded beside him.
They devoured the rest of their meals in silence. Here was a shifter who had his priorities in order—eat first; talk after or, even better, not at all. A surplus of chatter already filled the glade and grated on Wolfrik’s nerves.
Beside them, Justin and Wiley spoke with their mouths full, shouting their foolish conversation for all to hear. Wolfrik was skilled at tuning others out when he wanted, except when they got directly in his face as Rosalie now did. She planted herself in front of Aden and Wolfrik, grinning wide.
“I hear we have the two of you to thank for tonight’s scrumptious meal.” Neither Aden nor Wolfrik answered, but that didn’t dim Rosalie’s smile. She batted her lashes at Aden. “If only there was some way I could show my gratitude.”
“You can—by leaving us alone,” Wolfrik said.
Rosalie’s lips pouted. “Well, you’re no fun, are you?” She turned her back to Wolfrik, facing Aden. “How about you and I go someplace quiet where I can show you how much your kill meant to me?”
“Subtle,” Wolfrik said under his breath.
“That’s not necessary, but thank you,” Aden said politely. “I’m glad you enjoyed the meat.”
Yeah, Wolfrik was pretty sure that wasn’t the kind of meat the female currently had in mind. He snorted to himself.
“If you change your mind, come find me,” Rosalie said, handling the rejection with a flirty tone.
“Enjoy your evening,” Aden said with polite finality.
Rosalie flipped her hair over her shoulder and sauntered away.
“Not hungry for dessert?” Wolfrik couldn’t help asking.
Aden’s eyes slid to Wolfrik—his expression unreadable.
“I’m joking, obviously.”
This time he really had been joking. When was the last time he’d done that? Usually his words were meant to burrow directly under the skin, but not this time. This time the impenetrable wall he’d erected around himself had briefly dropped.
Aden slouched over his empty bowl, staring into it as though meeting someone’s eye. “I’m more about the main course,” Aden said.
Delighted that the werewolf had responded, Wolfrik grinned. “You don’t mess around; I respect that.”
Aden looked up sharply. Wolfrik showed his approval with a nod. It was the truth. He had never messed around on Sasha, always intending for her to be the one and only she-wolf he mated. She’d given him everything he needed; he’d just been too damn blind to appreciate what they had.
It was too late for Wolfrik, but not for Aden. The elders had no right ordering him never to mate. Wolfrik knew what it was like to have his freedoms taken away and decisions made for him. Wolf Hollow should never be run that way.
It was time to join the council, he thought grimly.
Jager was already in a good mood because of the meat, and Wolfrik was about to make his night even better. But when he approached him beside the bonfire and informed him he was ready for a council position, Jager’s forehead creased and he frowned.
“But that would even out our number. Seven is already big enough. I don’t want to bring us up to nine.”
Wolfrik stretched his arms over his head, dropped them languidly, and rested his hands on his hips. “So, boot Raider out.”
Jager’s mouth gaped open wide enough to catch flies.
“No . . . but . . .” Jager sputtered, eventually finding his voice. “Raider has served the council faithfully these past three years.”
Wolfrik smirked. “Just a suggestion.”
“Then I would suggest trading you with one of our newer members.” Jager squared his shoulders. Now that he’d gotten over his surprise, his voice strengthened. “Ford or Emerson.”
“That’s easy. Give Ford the boot.”
“Garrick won’t be happy.”
“Garrick’s no longer on council.”
Jager stared at Wolfrik, suspicion heavy on his
lids. “Why do you suddenly want on the council?”
Wolfrik lowered his arms to his sides. “Because you were right. It’s time I got more involved in pack matters.”
“And what kind of matters interest you?” Jager pressed.
“The future of our pack.”
“Be more specific.”
Damn, Jager wasn’t rolling over easily on this one. Wolfrik should have taken the position when it was first offered to him.
“What’s with the interrogation, old man? A month ago you were begging me to take a place on council.”
Jager’s eyes narrowed. “And you refused. What changed your mind?”
“I’ve had time to adjust, and it’s what my parents would have wanted.”
Wolfrik hated playing the dead parents card, but Jager’s shoulders immediately relaxed and he nodded.
“You’ll need a majority vote, which won’t be easy once the other members realize you will be replacing one of them.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
“Very well. I’ll call a special meeting to take place at the end of the week. Good luck, Wolfrik.”
“Do I have your vote?”
Jager inclined his head. “Yes.”
That meant Wolfrik needed three more. He knew he could count on Sasha. Always. Even when she was mated to someone else. That meant only two more.
He looked around the glade, eyes landing on Raider, who was preoccupied with his mate. Jordan straddled him as they pawed one another as though they were both in heat. Thank the moon Sasha didn’t dry-hump Tabor or suck his face off in public. Sasha had never been one to flaunt herself in front of the pack. She and Tabor ate most of their meals with Elsie, off in their own quiet little cluster.
Wolfrik didn’t want to ask Raider for his vote. He’d have to find someone else. Palmer, Heidi, and Ford were all in the den, which he was banned from. That left Emerson. He found a stump to sit on and watched her and the redhead, Gina, eating their stew on a log, legs pressed together. Emerson plucked a thick chunk of meat from her bowl and fed it to Gina. They both wore pretty smiles and stared at one another as though the sun revolved around the other.
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