by Gwen Knight
“All right, hun. Sit tight.”
She hung up the phone and turned back to Wyatt, the phone clutched to her chest. “He’s on his way.”
“So I heard.”
“You two know each other?”
Wyatt’s head dipped in a slow nod. “I’ve been helping him on this case.”
Her eyes creased. “You mean, the d—deaths?”
He nodded once more.
For the first time since she’d sacked him, she looked up at him with brutal honesty. “I should thank you. Tonight is the first time he’s gone this far. If you hadn’t been here…” She shivered, a far-off haze dulling her eyes.
The sheer defeat in her words made him want to kill someone. Namely the prick who was the cause of all this. Then Skylar’s words punched through him. “Wait, what are you talking about, gone this far?”
Mouth a grim line, she turned and stooped over the sink, her pack slipping down to her elbow. In that moment, Wyatt realized the full extent of all this.
Sky wasn’t only his next intended victim. She was his obsession.
Time to call in the cavalry.
***
So close.
So fucking close!
His fingers curled into a fist and he pounded it against the wooden floor of the tree fort he’d taken refuge in. The feeble deck shuddered, the planks creaking as they strained to support his weight.
He’d frightened her.
The sharp, blood-curdling scream had startled him more than her. He’d lifted his hands, hoped to placate her, but then he’d heard the alpha rush down the stairs, as much a brute as ever.
He hadn’t meant to frighten her, hadn’t intended on approaching her. After tonight’s chase, he’d thought it best to give her space. But her scent had been far too tempting to ignore. He only wanted to show her how much he loved her. He should have known that she was terrified. Should have slowed down, whispered her name. Should have taken caution, shown discretion. Should have known that bastard was in the park and in the house with her tonight. Should have, should have, should have…he raked his fingers over his scalp and pulled on his hair. What he wanted was to scream, to let loose the rage festering within. Every time he got close, she slipped farther away. So fucking close!
All he’d wanted was to touch her. Was that so terrible? She was his mate, and all he wanted was to touch her.
Anger blazed through his gut, and he pounded his fist a second time, uncaring when the floor teetered.
Next time, he’d take the appropriate steps to prepare her. Rushing into her kitchen in the middle of a windy night hadn’t been wise. So much had gone wrong tonight. But he had her phone now. He had full access to her schedule. So he’d leave notes, flowers, candy…anything it took.
The sound of his cell ringing deep in his pocket renewed his sanity. While reaching for it, he pushed his wolf down deep and reminded himself to remain patient—a sentiment he anxiously repeated. The beast prowled the darkest recesses of his mind, slathering for a chance to mate with her. Soon, he promised his wolf. Then, it would be the two of them. And nothing would stop him from having his way with her.
Soon.
***
Skylar listened half-heartedly as Wyatt phoned in backup. From the muted conversation, it seemed he’d invited his three best men to join the party. Then he’d phoned Shane back, and they’d had a deep discussion that she hadn’t been privy to. Deep down, though, she was grateful Wyatt was here, even if he had turned her into a blubbering mess. Her jaw tightened as she stared out the window onto the dark street beyond. She couldn’t believe she’d wept in front of him. No, she hadn’t simply wept. She’d gone off the reservation and full on ugly-cried. The snively, running nose, blubbering sort of crying, right in front of the alpha of the local pack.
She hadn’t lost her cool like that in front of anyone since she was a teenager. After that pitiful event, she’d sworn to herself that no one would ever catch her in such a weak state again. She’d held true to that oath too. Until tonight.
Ugh. She bowed her head toward the sink until the embarrassed flush left her cheeks.
She’d believed she could handle this. But every time she thought of that skeevy pervert, he proved her wrong.
Wyatt ended his call with a terse farewell and then turned to lean against the counter next to her. Millimeters away…her stomach warmed with the thought, but touching him was a giant hell no. Everything about him screamed back off, from his crossed arms to his ever-so-personable attitude. Was the man physically incapable of smiling?
Not that she minded. The one grin he’d flashed her had nearly been her undoing. And that was so not all right.
He shot her a narrowed glance, his mouth pursed. “My wolves were nearby in the city, so we haven’t much time before they arrive. In the meantime, why don’t you break this down for me? From the beginning, if you don’t mind.”
“I do mind, actually,” she mumbled. “It isn’t exactly pleasant conversation.”
He stiffened, drawing Sky’s gaze to the beautiful tapestry of tattoos that adorned his sculpted chest and muscled arms. Thick swirls inked his flesh in an intricate wolf design that she wanted to trace with the tips of her fingers.
“Like what you see?” he growled.
She wrenched her gaze back up to his, and her heart gave a solid kick when she found him staring down at her. And goodness, the man had perfected his stare. Clearing her throat, she stepped back and toed the ground. “Am I not allowed to admire your tattoos?”
“As much as I enjoy being drooled on by an attractive woman, there are more important matters to handle.”
Sky’s jaw dropped. “Go stuff your ego. I wasn’t drooling. Anyone would think they’re beautiful.”
“Beautiful?” He snorted, offended. “My tattoos are not beautiful.”
“Well, I think they are. What would you call them?”
He shrugged and regressed back to his stony exterior. “Intimidating and manly.”
Of course. With a heavy sigh, Sky pushed away from the counter and strayed toward the middle of the kitchen. Every step only served to remind her that something terrible had happened in her house. While she wanted nothing more than to forget it, the thick stench of death clouded the air. She couldn’t let that stop her, though.
A strong hand gripped her arm. “Where are you going?”
Her gaze dropped to the long, tanned fingers that rested against her arm. The man positively dwarfed her, a feeling she didn’t much appreciate when trying to show him that she could handle herself. “To get something to wear,” she said, gesturing toward the stairs. “I’d rather not look like this when your wolves arrive. Might give them the wrong idea.”
Wyatt’s steady gaze studied her length. She told herself to ignore the quick flicker of heat that melted his stony expression. Male werewolves were slaves to their baser instincts, something she’d learned at a young age. They were little more than modern-day cavemen. Hell, the man could hate the woman, but the moment his wolf spotted a decent pair of legs, he was howling at the moon like a randy mutt. So, why then, did her pulse suddenly decide to take off?
“You have a bag right here.” Was it her imagination, or did he sound like he’d swallowed a mouthful of gravel?
She glanced down at the rucksack and grimaced. While it was true that she’d packed it with the intent of running, she’d chosen clothes she rarely wore. What she wanted was the comfy hoodie her father had given her as a graduation gift and her baggy pajama pants. She wanted clothes that swallowed her whole.
It was now or never. She refused to let her unfriendly neighborhood stalker steal something else from her. That sweater was her favorite; she refused to leave it behind. Squaring her shoulders, she marched forward. “I’ll be right back. It won’t take a second to run upstairs—”
“No.”
And there it was. That word again—one she was starting to loathe. “Excuse me?”
Wyatt stooped over and yanked open her bag. Be
fore she could blink, he stuffed his hands within and started tearing out her personal possessions. “Here.” He shoved a wad of clothing into her arms. “Wear these.”
Her ears still buzzed from the word no. Growling under her breath, she dropped the clothes to the floor and darted up the stairs. How he managed to turn everything into a pissing contest was beyond her.
She felt him behind her, felt the weight of his gaze burning through her shoulder.
“Sky, I said—”
A litany of curses fell from her lips, and mid-step, she pivoted and glared down on him. For the first time since they’d met that night, she had the height advantage. Lording it over him, she pressed forward until the two were near touching. “I’ll remind you again that you are not my alpha.”
Deep and dark, his growl lifted the hairs on the back of her neck.
“And that this is my house, Wyatt.” The height advantage bolstered her courage. She leaned forward and tapped him on the nose, swallowing at the sudden flash of desire in his eyes. “You can come with me if you want, but—”
She never got the rest of the invitation out. The last thing she’d expected was for the man to pin her against the wall and knock her shoes off with a soul-searing kiss.
Stunned, Sky’s mouth fell open, and Wyatt took full advantage. She sucked in a breath the moment his tongue caressed hers, the hard press of his lips curling her toes. Magic slammed into her as he plundered her mouth. Goodness, the man could kiss. Strong arms curved around her waist and braced her against the wall as he deepened the angle.
Mate…her wolf gave a long, earthy howl, pacing anxiously as the magic swelled between them. Sky melted into his embrace, stricken by the strength of the connection between them. No matter how much she loathed the man, her wolf had an entirely different opinion.
Wyatt broke from the kiss and stared down at her, annoyance tapering his gaze as he snarled, “Shit.”
Shit, indeed.
Growling, he swept down and kissed her again. In that instant, Sky knew she was done for.
Chapter 6
Wyatt hadn’t a clue what he was doing. One moment, the damned she-wolf had been lecturing him and tapping him on the nose like he was nothing more than a troublesome pup, and the next, he had her plastered against the wall. Except, the moment their lips touched, he knew. His wolf rejoiced, howling at the proverbial moon that he’d finally found his mate.
He groaned and shifted his weight against her, his left hand sweeping down her curved length to grasp her bare thigh. Hello…smooth and hot and tantalizing. He guided it above his hip, as he’d imagined doing on his bike tonight, and ground himself against her, his eyes crossing when she grazed against the hard ridge in his jeans.
The T-shirt had to go. As lovely as the dark color was against her tanned skin, he wanted nothing between them. His hand delved beneath the hem of the shirt, his fingers brushing against the soft arc of her breast. She purred against his mouth, a sound that grew obnoxiously loud until Wyatt realized it wasn’t her. With a frustrated grunt, he nipped her bottom lip and ran his thumb over her enticingly taut nipple before he pushed himself away. Untimeliest of timings…he sighed and raked a hand through his hair. Why didn’t it surprise him that their backup had arrived now of all times?
Sky stood silently by. Nimble fingers leapt to her mouth and she traced the supple curve of the rosy lip he’d caught between his teeth. Impassioned eyes watched him as he backed into the far wall, her other hand clutching at the neck of the T-shirt. Seemed she wasn’t the only one startled by the situation. Any other day and he would have rolled her six ways from Sunday, regardless of how much she aggravated him. But with the return of his senses came the understanding that this could not happen again. He didn’t want a mate, and from the horrified look on her face, she didn’t either. He had no intentions of getting involved with a woman whose life had been hijacked by some disturbed stalker.
Wyatt cleared his throat and adjusted his pants before starting down the stairs. “They’re here.”
Still, she didn’t speak.
He stole one final glance, his heart—and a more southern appendage—throbbing at the sight of her flushed cheeks and well-kissed mouth. He mentally kicked himself and recited all the reasons he couldn’t climb the stairs and have his way with her. Not only was there a crime scene one level up—and nothing said sexy like a bloody mattress—but their wolves wouldn’t allow them to fuck without fulfilling the mating call. He’d have to plunge more than his dick into her, and like hell he’d sink his fangs into a woman he’d only just met. “Downstairs, now.”
Her lashes fluttered, but for once, she held her sinful tongue. Unnerving. Had he known the mating call was all it would take to silence her, he might have kissed her earlier.
Refusing to dwell further on her taciturn behaviour, he stalked down the stairs and grabbed the pile of discarded clothing. “Put these on before they come inside.”
The fiery tang of anger drifted down the stairwell. Clearly, she loathed it when he ordered her around, but he hadn’t the time for a more diplomatic approach. His wolves were here, and in a few minutes, they would be storming the castle, so to speak. And while his head screamed that he couldn’t touch her again, his dick ached for her. He’d be damned before he allowed any of his wolves to catch his mate standing around half-naked. His fingers twitched. Not mate, Sky.
At the foot of the stairs, he listened as she yanked on a sweater and zipped up a pair of jeans. Relieved, he stepped through the kitchen and held open the door.
“Welcome to the murder house,” he muttered to his men as they crossed the threshold.
“And people say you never take me anywhere nice,” Harley teased as he stepped inside, his fingers plugging his nose.
Wyatt greeted the other two with quick pats on the back, then turned to introduce Sky. The woman brushed by the four of them with hardly a glance. Anger and frustration perfumed the tainted air, and, as one, his boys lifted their brows.
“Skylar, this is Bale, my beta. And those two fools over there with their fingers up their noses are Axel and Harley.”
She came to a stop at the sink and gave a delicate snort. “Those aren’t their real names.”
Harley extricated his fingers and threw her a wide grin. “No, ma’am.” With her back to them, Harley’s sickeningly sweet grin morphed into a smirk before he elbowed Axel and gestured toward Sky’s backside. Wyatt had seen that look grace the man’s face before—it was one Harley sported before he turned on the charm.
A curse darkened Wyatt’s lips before he could catch himself. Together, his wolves turned toward him, but it was Harley whose brow arched. The memory of Sky’s mouth still lingered on his—he sure as shit wasn’t going to stand by and watch another wolf eye-hump her.
Why did she have to look so adorable, anyway? The hoodie he’d thrown her way was much too large. The UCLA sweater swam on her lithe form, but those jeans…he swallowed. The blasted things looked painted on, and hell if his palms weren’t itching for another handful.
“So, what’s up, boss?” Axel waggled his eyebrows, his Cajun accent mangling the common phrase. “Sounds like you’ve had an interesting night so far.”
Interesting. That was one way of putting it. A simple evening ride had turned into a nightmare, in more than one way. The most distressing of which was the discovery of his supposed headstrong mate.
Grunting, Wyatt reached down and snatched up Sky’s small knapsack. He jerked his head toward the bikes. “Mount up. She comes with us. We ride hard. I want no mistakes. We aren’t followed, hear me? And if we are, take care of it.”
“W—What?” Sky whirled around, her blue eyes like ice. “No, absolutely not. I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t know you! Plus, Shane’s on his way.”
Wyatt leaned toward her. “I’m not arguing this with you. Shane will be busy processing the scene upstairs for a few hours. You’re coming with us, and I don’t want to hear anything more about it.”
The tension in the room ramped up. Axel and Harley shared a shocked glance. Honestly, Wyatt had expected such a response. The woman seemed incapable of accepting help. From an alpha’s point of view, it made sense to show no weakness. But regardless of how dominant she played, she wasn’t an alpha.
Sky’s face mottled with frustration. “I never asked for your help!”
“Most people would say thank you.”
“Thank you, but no thank you.”
Wyatt’s jaw ticked. “For crying out loud, Sky. Stop acting childish.”
Harley sucked in a sharp breath.
“Go hump a leg,” she growled. “You don’t control my life. You don’t get to decide what I do! Not to mention that I have a job, one that expects me across the country by tomorrow afternoon.”
“Ya, ya, we get it. You’re a strong, independent woman. Hurray. But look at this logically, darling. Whoever this guy is, he isn’t going to stop until he finds you. And when he does, you’re going to need the help. Going at this alone is stupid. So, call your boss and tell him that, as of this moment, you’re on vacation.”
“Vacation!” she sputtered. “You haven’t the first clue what my job entails. I can’t just go on vacation!”
“Sure you can. Everyone is entitled to a vacation. You tell him, or I will.”
She let out a humorless laugh, her eyes blazing. “Try it!”
“Oh, for the love of Christ, woman!” He wanted to punch something. What the hell was it with her? Why did she need to make things so difficult? Couldn’t she graciously accept his help?
“Uh, guys?” Axel stepped between them with his hands held up. “As riveting as this is, I think everyone should take a deep breath and calm down.”
Wyatt’s head snapped toward his fourth-in-command. “Excuse me?”
Axel cringed backward at the sound of Wyatt's menacing voice. “Forgive me, Alpha. I don't know exactly what’s going on between you two, but my guess is that we can’t stand here arguing all night.”
Wyatt sucked in a deep breath and turned back to Sky. Axel was right, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. “I’m not going to go through this with you again. When I said you were coming with us, I wasn’t asking.”