Wild Hunger

by Suzanne Wright

  Frankie’s heart stuttered. She’d originally assumed that the reception would be held on Phoenix Pack territory, but Trick had told her on the way here that it was instead being held at Iris and Alfie’s old home. A place from Frankie’s childhood. A place where her father had grown up, that her mother had visited frequently, and where Frankie had played as a child.

  According to Lydia, it was also the closest cabin to Frankie’s childhood home. She didn’t feel ready to go back. Wasn’t sure she ever wanted to.

  Having a pretty good idea of why his mate had just gone stiff as a board, Trick ate up her personal space, cupping her face as he spoke quietly. “Baby, we don’t have to go to the reception. Iris wouldn’t give a flying fuck that you didn’t go to her cabin, eat finger food, and all that shit. She’d just be happy that you went to the burial.”

  Frankie so badly wanted to grasp that out and just leave. But it would be disrespectful, selfish, and cowardly to miss the reception, wouldn’t it?

  “We don’t have to go,” Trick repeated. “Honestly, my wolf would rather be home anyway. He doesn’t like it here. Too many shitty memories. And my mom’s pissing him off, because she keeps scowling at Trey.”

  Yeah, Frankie had noticed that. She’d known Trick’s mother instantly because she’d seen him wear that same scowl. He’d inherited her brown eyes, high cheekbones, and full mouth. Frankie wasn’t sure where he got his height and burly build from, but it sure hadn’t come from his father. The guy was built like a rake and was a foot shorter than Trick.

  “Aren’t you going to talk to them?” she asked.

  “There’s no point when Trey’s around. Uma’s not so bad if I’m on my own or with Marcus, but she feels the need to maintain a bitchy demeanor when Trey’s around. Right now, my concern is you. I can’t guarantee she’d resist taking potshots at him right here at the graveside, even though she liked and respected Iris. I don’t want you exposed to that.”

  “This day is about Iris.” Frankie licked her lips. “That’s why I’m going to the reception.”

  Trick’s eyes narrowed a little. “It’s okay if you can’t handle it. It doesn’t make you weak.”

  “No, but it would make me a self-centered coward.” She gripped his arms. “I’ve had my self-centered moments in the past, but I’ve never been a coward. I’m not going to start that shit now.”

  He sighed. “That both irritates me and fills me with pride.” Trick didn’t want her in a place where she felt even remotely uncomfortable, but he respected why she felt she needed to be there, and he admired her for being able to push past that anxiety. His gaze pinned hers, all seriousness now. “An hour. We’ll stay for no longer than an hour. If you feel uncomfortable or want to leave for any reason at all before then, you tell me. I’ll claim that I received a call and I need to leave. Okay?”

  She smiled. “You’re awesome. You know that?”

  “Of course I know that.”

  “It saddens me that you have such self-esteem issues,” she said drily.

  Jaime appeared then, using her knuckle to wipe away a tear. “You guys ready to go back?”

  Trick rested his hand in the crook of Frankie’s neck. “Actually, we’re going to the reception.”

  Jaime’s eyes cut to her, glinting with concern. “Are you sure about this?”

  No, thought Frankie, but she nodded. “It’s just something I have to do. We won’t be staying long.”

  Jaime sighed. “All right. But I’m sure you’ve noticed that a lot of people are curious about you. I doubt that anyone will be rude, but they’ll have plenty of questions, and if they can get you alone they might take the chance to say some shitty stuff about the Newmans, considering that the humans were a big source of Iris’s unhappiness over the years. Stay close to Trick and the rest of our pack at all times.”

  “I’m planning to.” Many Phoenix Pack members had attended. Since they all couldn’t leave their territory at the same time and no one wanted to bring the kids to the funeral, the pack had agreed that half would go to the burial and then go home so that the other half could attend the reception. That way everyone got to pay their respects to Iris, and the kids would stay home and be well protected.

  Jaime looked at Trick. “I’d say, ‘Take care of her,’ but I know you will.” With that, she crossed to Dante.

  Ignoring the weight of his mother’s glare, Trick guided Frankie to the SUV and opened the door. Once they were both inside, he twisted in his seat to face her. “Let it out.” She’d been holding her grief in all damn morning, and it was driving him and his wolf crazy.

  “I can’t yet. Not until after the reception.”

  “Frankie—”

  “I can’t yet.”

  He sighed. “All right. But later, you have to let it all go.”

  “I will.” It was a promise.

  Minutes later, Lydia and Cam joined them in the SUV. Trick drove them through the territory toward Iris’s cabin. The whole time, Frankie stared out the window, taking everything in. Of course, nothing sparked memories to surface, nothing seemed familiar. It was both frustrating and a relief.

  As they pulled up near the cabin and she hopped out of the vehicle, Frankie resisted glancing at the cabin that was a few kilometers down the way. That resistance didn’t last long. The cabin seemed a little bigger than Iris’s. It was also boarded up. Apparently no one wanted to live in a place where one person had been murdered and another had committed suicide. Understandable. She was surprised the pack hadn’t just knocked the building down.

  Trick held his hand out. “Ready?”

  Slipping her hand into his, she nodded. Lydia and Cam entered first, which gave Frankie cover. Her sensitive stomach churned at the smells of coffee, lasagna, finger foods, and perfume. Despite the bright decor and the flower arrangements, the cabin seemed dull—probably because everyone was dressed in black and the mood was mostly bleak.

  The den, dining area, and kitchen was all one open space, so it was easy to see that some people were gathered around the buffet while others bustled around the kitchen. Most, however, were seated around the den on the sofa, armchairs, and folding chairs.

  She could hear people speaking in hushed tones, cutlery clinking and clattering, and the subdued laughter from those exchanging yet more funny stories.

  Trick spoke into her ear. “Want me to get you a plate?”

  She grimaced. “I don’t have a much of an appetite right now.”

  With Trick at her side, Frankie wandered from room to room, looking at mementos, knickknacks, and framed photographs. Lydia had already boxed up the things that Iris had kept at Phoenix Pack territory, saying it had felt cathartic. Frankie wasn’t sure if she personally would have been able to handle something like that so quickly in Lydia’s situation, but she knew everyone handled grief in different ways.

  She pretended she was oblivious to the stares and avoided making eye contact with any of the Bjorn wolves. In her current mood, she had no patience for small talk or probing questions. She was there for Iris, not—

  Frankie came to an abrupt stop as something caught her eye. “That’s mine.”

  Trick looked at the clay sculpture of a cloaked, hooded figure that was propped up on a shelf near the staircase. There was nothing but a pit of black where its face should be, making him think of a grim reaper. But that wasn’t what creeped Trick out. It was that those bony fingers were gripping the handle of a baby stroller. “You made that?”

  “She never told me she had one of my pieces. She just said she saw them online.”

  Trick’s brow furrowed. “It is odd that she didn’t tell you. It’s even stranger that she left it here when she moved to our territory, considering she took her most prized possessions with her.” He pursed his lips. “Maybe she didn’t know it was your work. If she had, it would have had pride of place in the den.”

  “So someone bought it for her but didn’t tell her that I made it?”

  He shrugged. “Seems like it.” Su
ch an act was both kind and cruel, in his opinion. “But there’s—” He cut off when he noticed the Bjorn Alpha headed their way. Josh wasn’t a bad guy but, honestly, Trick had never liked any of Dante’s brothers. Mostly because they’d been absolute assholes to their baby brother, treating him like the runt of the pack. Well, said runt was now bigger, faster, and more dominant than all of them. Funny how things worked out.

  He gave Trick a brief nod before turning to Frankie with a smile. “I’m Josh, the Alpha. But you don’t remember me, I see.”

  She shook her head. “Sorry.” And she was finding it kind of annoying that some people thought they were so special that they’d somehow stick out in her memory.

  He shrugged. “It’s not your fault.”

  Well, obviously not, thought Frankie.

  A small, plump woman sidled up to the Alpha and said, “Josh, I was hoping to—oh, you’re little Francesca, all grown up.” It was obvious that the woman had pretended she wanted to speak with Josh just so she could talk with Frankie.

  Trick inwardly sighed in annoyance. She didn’t hesitate to pelt Frankie with questions, and others quickly came over and followed the woman’s lead. His pack mates realized what was happening and came over just as Trick held up his arms and interrupted.

  “Frankie’s here to pay her respects to Iris. Not to answer questions. I understand why you’re curious, but you’ll have to put that aside.” Trick looked at Josh. “That includes you.”

  At that moment, Clara shouldered her way through the crowd and shooed all the Bjorn wolves away, even Josh. The Alpha took pity on the grieving woman and didn’t reprimand her for the insubordinate behavior.

  With a heavy sigh, Clara said, “I’m sorry, Frankie. They shouldn’t have crowded you that way. They didn’t mean any harm, but it wasn’t fair of them. How are you doing?”

  Frankie swallowed. “Fine. You?”

  “I’m holding up. It’s hard. She was the best friend a girl could ever have.”

  Keeping her voice casual, Frankie asked, “Clara, did Iris buy this?”

  Clara squinted at the sculpture. “No, she didn’t. I asked her once why she’d have such a frightening piece in her home. She said she’d never give away a gift. She was good like that.” Her chin trembled, and she dug a tissue out of her pocket. “Excuse me. I need to use the bathroom.”

  Frankie blew out a breath and turned to Trick. “Can we go now?” She was tired and edgy, and her face felt stiff from how long she’d been fighting the urge to cry.

  He squeezed her nape. “Yeah, baby, we can go.” He signaled to Trey, who tipped his chin. Trusting his Alpha to gather the rest of their pack mates together, Trick slid an arm around Frankie’s shoulders and led her outside. The moment they stepped on the porch, those shoulders stiffened. He frowned. “You okay?”

  No, Frankie wasn’t. When she’d stepped out onto the porch, a familiar scent of rain, brine, and burned wood had reached her nostrils. That was when her wolf went ape-shit—snarling, snapping her teeth, and raking Frankie’s insides with her claws.

  Frankie stiffly turned to face Cruz, Eke, and Wendel. While they exchanged greetings with her and Trick, she worked hard to soothe her wolf.

  “It was good of you to come, Frankie,” said Eke, face lined with grief. “My mother appreciates it.”

  Cruz nodded. “She needs family around her right now.”

  Wendel opened his mouth to speak, but then he shook his head. “Sorry, it’s just . . . you look so much like Caroline that it’s like having her standing in front of me.”

  The affection with which he said her mother’s name unsettled Frankie. She lifted a brow. “You knew her well?”

  “Not well, but I’d like to think we were friends. Some humans find it hard to adjust to being within a pack. Not Caroline. She took to pack life as if she were a shifter.”

  Mouth curving into a nostalgic smile, Cruz nodded again. “Christopher was so proud of that. He’d have been so proud of your success too. He’d have liked that you were an artist, like him.” Hearing the shake in his voice, Frankie thought he might cry. Instead he gave her a wobbly smile.

  As if eager to change the subject and rescue Cruz’s mood, Eke quickly said, “You were always in Iris’s thoughts, Frankie. I’m sure you’ve noticed there were many pictures of you around her cabin.”

  “There was one of my sculptures too,” she told him.

  Wendel blinked. “She didn’t tell me she had one of your pieces.”

  Before Frankie could tell him that she suspected Iris hadn’t known it was one of hers, a dark-skinned female popped her head through the doorway and shouted, “Boys, your mom is looking for you!”

  Sighing, Cruz shrugged a little helplessly. “We have to go. You take care now, Frankie.” He tipped his chin at Trick and then headed inside the cabin. Muttering their goodbyes, Wendel and Eke followed their brother.

  Relief scuttled down Frankie’s spine, and she rolled back her stiff shoulders. It wasn’t until she was inside the SUV, though, that her wolf finally simmered down. Breathing deeply, she clicked on her seat belt, hoping that Lydia and Cam would hurry their asses up.

  Trick rested one hand on the wheel. “Okay, baby, here’s where you tell me why the triplets make you so uncomfortable.”

  Agitated, Frankie threw her hands up. “It’s not me. It’s my wolf.”

  His brow creased. “Your wolf?”

  “She loses her shit around them. The scent they all share sets her off every time. I don’t know why, but she despises them.”

  Trick’s frown deepened. “Really?” He glanced at the cabin, thoughtful. “I don’t recall them ever doing anything to upset you when we were kids. But if your wolf behaves that way, there must be a good reason.” He was about to say something else, but then he noticed that his parents were nearing Iris’s cabin. It appeared that they’d walked from the graveyard instead of driving, and he wondered if his father had insisted on it out of respect for Iris—hoping that Trey would be gone by the time they got there so that any awkward scenes could be avoided.

  Noticing him, they stopped at the driver’s side of the vehicle. Trick wound down the window and inclined his head.

  Michael nodded, face drawn. “Son.” He looked past him and said with a strained smile, “You must be Francesca. I’m Michael, Trick’s father. This is Uma, his mother.”

  Uma smiled. “It’s nice to see you again, Francesca, though it would have been much better if it had happened under other circumstances. I’m sorry about your grandmother. Iris was an amazing woman.”

  Unsure what to say, Frankie simply agreed. “Yeah, she was.”

  Uma turned her smile on Trick. “You look good.”

  “I feel it,” said Trick.

  “Will you be moving back to Bjorn Pack territory?” Uma asked Frankie.

  “No,” replied Frankie. “I, um, I’ll be moving to Phoenix Pack territory at some point.”

  Satisfaction flooded Trick at that, and he rested a hand on her thigh.

  “I see.” Uma looked from her to Trick. “You’re mates.” She slanted her head, eyes on Trick. “I remember how protective you were of her. I didn’t think anything of it. I should have.” She raised a brow. “You don’t think it would be best for Francesca if she were to return to her childhood—”

  “Do not try to use this situation to meet your own needs,” Trick snapped.

  Michael lifted a placating hand. “Let’s drop this, yes?”

  Uma’s mouth tightened. “Fine. I hope you’ll at least make time to visit us soon. And grandchildren would be nice, by the way.” The cabin door creaked open, and Trey stepped out. Uma’s face went rock hard.

  “Mom, leave it,” Trick bit out. “Your anger is pointless.”

  Uma turned back to him. “You lost years of your mate’s life because her grandparents took her from you. Are you not angry with them for that?”

  He knew what she was getting at. “Trey didn’t take me from you. I made the decision to leave. I m
ade the choice that was right for me. Dad knows that, which is why he’s mad at me, not Trey.”

  Michael exhaled a weary sigh. “I lost that anger years ago, Trick.”

  Trick shook his head. “I see it in your eyes.”

  “That anger isn’t directed at you. I’m angry that the strain between us went on too long for the damage to ever be completely repaired.” Michael looked at Frankie. “We’re sorry for your loss, Francesca.” At that, he guided Uma away. Whatever he whispered into her ear stopped her from spewing any harsh words at Trey as they passed him.

  Trick’s shoulders lost their tension as Lydia and Cam finally appeared. “Now we can get the fuck out of here.”

  When they all finally returned to Phoenix Pack territory, Trick took Frankie to his room and lay her on the bed beside him. “Let it go,” he gently ordered. And she did. The entire time she cried, he held her close, whispering soothing words and planting light kisses on her face and hair. Once she was all cried out, she drifted off, still in his arms. He tightened his hold on her and watched over her while she slept.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Her foot caught on something, and Frankie cursed as she stumbled. Only Trick’s hold on her arm kept her upright. She hissed. “Will you take this damn blindfold off me now!”

  “Nearly there,” he assured her.

  “You said that twenty minutes ago.”

  “Baby, we’ve only been walking for five.”

  She snarled at him, though she had no idea if he noticed. When he’d said that he had a surprise for her, she hadn’t expected that they’d need to go stomping through the woods to reach it. Well, she was stomping, causing leaves to crackle and twigs to snap beneath her feet. Trick didn’t make a sound. If it weren’t for his hand on her skin and his scent surrounding her, she wouldn’t even know he was there.

  For days she’d been very aware that he was hiding something from her—he’d occasionally shot her a little secret smile that had a slight taunt to it. But no amount of bugging on her part had made him even admit to having a secret, let alone made him tell her what it was.