by Jax Garren
“Going where, mate?” Phillip’s voice replaced the heat with ice, and she froze in place.
He walked across her yard from the kitchen. The house lights backlit him with a golden halo and left his face in shadow, but his eyes glowed with the same amber light that haunted her nightmares.
Her ex was back. In her house. Horror ripped a hole in her sweet imaginings. Her skin prickled and fingers dug into the tree like she had claws of her own. “Get off my property,” Elle ordered, forcing her voice to stay steady. Oh yeah, she looked large and in charge, arguing with a treed cat. A steady voice would totally impress him.
Not.
He stalked forward with the sinewy grace of the wolf he hid inside.
“I told you to leave.” If only her voice would stay strong, but panic rode her so hard she could barely keep her footing.
He leapt onto a low branch with inhuman dexterity, bringing his head level with her knees. “And I told you that we’re forever, mate.”
Oshun hissed and swatted. Claws left a trail of blood across his pretty-boy face.
He growled, grabbed the cat by the scruff, and flung her off the tree.
“Oshun!” Rage exploded as she watched her cat land on the ground. If he hurt the cat, she’d kill him. “Mother fucker!” She balled her fist and jabbed Phillip in the nose, like Adam had taught her.
Phillip’s expression blanked in surprise as his head snapped backward and he fell to the ground.
Elle hustled out of the tree and ran to Oshun.
The cat rotated and lurched to standing, took a few unsteady steps, but seemed okay. Thank god. “Run, girl!” She’d follow the cat. Oshun, good girl, dashed off toward the road, running in an almost-straight line. Elle followed. She’d gotten to CU Boulder from Los Angeles on a track scholarship and now plied every ounce of her willpower into the sprint.
A motorcycle roared in the distance. Adam? Oh, please let it be Adam.
What did she expect him to do against a werewolf? She’d grab the cat and get on the bike and they’d speed away. That’s what they’d do.
Then she’d call the security company and get Billy fired. Or press charges. Her hired bodyguard had let Phillip inside to kidnap her. What the fuck?
Anger made her faster. She pointed toward the sound. Even if it wasn’t Adam, she’d hitch a ride from whomever she found and call Adam from somewhere safe.
No noise alerted her to Phillip’s presence, so the leap took her by surprise. He knocked her off her feet, and she landed face first in the dirt. Rocks jammed into her sternum, and her hands stung from impact.
Phillip’s weight landed heavily on her back, forcing her to the ground. “I like it when you run, mate.” His hot breath misted against her cheek. “I like to chase you.”
“Get off me!” She struggled, pushing up with her back.
His grip closed painfully around her wrist, wrenching her hand behind her. “I tried to do this nicely. Tried to woo you like a human. But you didn’t listen. So this time I’ll take you like a wolf.”
She bucked, flailing to get him off of her. But his relentless grip held on even as his voice stayed soothing, hushing her with whispered sounds that meant nothing. Phillip was a monstrous psychopath. And he’d found her.
Chapter Three
Adam sped down neighborhood streets at highway speed, praying to whatever gods may or may not exist that he’d be back in time. Fucking service bodyguard. He was never taking a night off again.
With his keener-than-human vision, he spied Oshun picking her way through rocks near the road. Elle would want the cat. He veered off course. The cat ran. He scooped it up, ignoring the claws and fangs digging into his forearm.
If Oshun was here, Elle would likely be outside, too. He stopped the bike to assess the surroundings and unceremoniously stashed the cat in a saddlebag. While moving, the sound and smell of the motorcycle overpowered everything else. Stopped, he got his ears and nose back.
Wolf. Another werewolf roamed nearby. A male. The hair on the back of Adam’s neck stood on end as the instinct to protect his territory and challenge the interloper ground into him. He wanted to shift and charge after the invader.
Elle would freak out. He needed to stay human.
A scream fractured the night. Elle? Fuck. He hit the accelerator, taking his bike off the road and into the grasslands.
A quarter mile in, he found Elle on the ground, face in the dirt with a werewolf crouched on her back. Rage coursed through Adam, and it took every bit of will he possessed to stay human as he stopped the bike.
The werewolf glared at him, eyes full of menace and possessive lust. “Mine.”
Oh hell no. Adam growled and jumped him. They rolled off of Elle and onto the dirt.
The man stank of silk, cologne, and hair gel. Rich wuss. Adam punched him in the stomach and pinned him with a knee against his chest. “Not yours. Not even close.” She’s mine.
Elle scrambled up and backed toward the bike. “Adam, he’s not…. You have to be careful. Let’s go.”
Beneath his hands, the man started to shift. Adam saw two choices, shift and shred this asshole’s furry carcass across the prairie—which would be great until Elle ran screaming into the night—or get her out of here.
He wanted to kill the guy for touching his mate—for touching any woman when she didn’t want to be touched. The guy deserved it.
But Elle was panicking so hard he could smell her terror. Take care of her first. Take care of the asshole later, when Elle doesn’t have to watch. “Get on the bike,” he ordered. He sprang back as the man morphed into a silver wolf.
Faster than human, he straddled his motorcycle. Elle grabbed his waist, hugging him tightly in her fear, and they took off.
The wolf chased behind, jaws snapping at their heels, and Adam hit the accelerator. Wolves were fast, but not as fast as a tricked-out motorcycle. A few more seconds, and they’d left the wolf behind.
As Elle clung to him, her body shaking with emotion, he realized why she’d never told him from whom she was running. She didn’t think he’d believe her if she said she’d dated a werewolf.
What was Adam thinking? Phillip had changed right in front of him. As the adrenaline wore off, Elle pressed her cheek against Adam’s back and worried about what would happen next. Would he freak out and leave because she hadn’t told him what he was up against? She’d put him in a lot of danger with ignorance.
On the other hand, who in their right mind would’ve believed her?
The motorcycle slowed. They’d only been going for ten minutes or so. As far as she was concerned, they could drive all night and it wouldn’t be far enough. It soothed her to rest with her arms around Adam’s thick chest and hang on.
But she owed him an explanation. They came to a stop at a gas station. He turned off the engine and put his feet down but otherwise didn’t move.
“I can fill it up,” she whispered, but she didn’t move either. She swallowed the nervous lump in her throat and hung on, hoping it wouldn’t be the last time she got to be close to Adam.
Finally he twisted to look at her, his expression serious but otherwise unreadable behind the motorcycle glasses. “We stick with cash. I’m going to get some at the ATM here, and that’s the last plastic transaction until we have a better plan.”
She slid her own ATM card out of her phone case. “Use mine.” It wasn’t his job to take care of her financially.
But he shook his head. “In case he’s looking, mine’s less likely to attract his attention.” He cupped her jaw with his hand, the first sign he wasn’t mad. She leaned into the touch, and he ran his finger along her jaw, carefully like she was delicate. “Have you eaten? My guess is no. You forget to eat when you’re working.”
Until he’d mentioned it, she hadn’t been hungry. Suddenly, she was ravenous. She eyed the gas station speculatively and tried to make a joke. “Think they carry organic?”
He laughed. “No
. Prepare for a hot dog.” He smiled as he stowed his helmet and glasses, and she felt so much better. Life may be crashing around her, but they were okay, and nothing else mattered nearly so much. “Come on inside with me.”
She swung her foot over the saddle and a new worry hit her. “Oshun!”
A pitiful meow sounded muffled, and Adam tapped a saddlebag. “One miserable cat, safe in the bag.”
He’d saved Oshun. He hated that cat. She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him tightly to her. His arms came around her, comforting and strong, their ordeal erasing all of the weirdness of earlier. He smelled like leather and pine, the outdoorsy scent clean and clear. He never came home smelling like another woman. She didn’t care about fairness; she liked to think of him as all hers. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Adam.”
He stroked her back comfortingly. “It’s my job. What next, boss?”
Get out of here. Find somewhere safe—if safe even exists. Pretend tonight didn’t happen. “Drive. Just drive.”
***
Elle is not going to like this place. Adam handed her a key to their cheap-ass motel room anyway, all he dared afford with cash on hand and no definitive plan for the future. Elle didn’t want to go home tonight, and until he knew the whole story—and he figured out how to tell her the truth about himself—he was okay with that. When they traveled, though, she always booked rooms in bed-and-breakfasts or chichi little boutique places, the kind with character. Also the kind with a wall between their beds. This two-queen room promised to be as bland as every roadside chain motel in the country. He mostly hoped it was clean. He didn’t want to think about the part where he’d spend the night a few uninterrupted feet away from her, trying not to stare at his mate as she slept.
She pushed the door open without a comment for the 1970s orange decor and dropped Oshun onto the first bed. The cat immediately ran under it.
The bed closest to the door was his; that way he’d encounter any incoming threats first. They’d work that out later. Now he needed answers.
“Did we pass Cheyenne?” she asked.
“About half an hour ago.” He’d driven north toward the Black Hills, almost like his home called to him in times of stress. He wouldn’t be welcome back. Magnum Tao and his buddies weren’t forgiving of those who left the fold. Sometimes he wondered if Drew Tao, Magnum’s son, had ever come back to the town of Los Lobos to challenge his father. If Drew won, Adam might consider returning to see if he could earn his way back into the pack’s good graces. He glanced at his mate. And to see if he could bring a human into Los Lobos. In the past, they’d been banned.
Sure, he could take on Elle’s ex by himself, but the lack of desire to go back wasn’t entirely about that asshole. The older he got, the more he missed his pack, and now that he had a mate, he wanted her to be a part of his family, to know him fully, wolf and all. That meant bringing her home to Los Lobos.
Elle sat on the bed facing away from him and pulled her knees to her chin. She looked so damn vulnerable, her strong arms wrapped around her shins, her hair wild as it rioted out from beneath her do-rag.
He sat next to her, and she leaned toward him as the bed shifted. He put a tentative arm around her shoulders. She leaned into it, and he curled her into his side. It felt natural to have her under his arm and tucked close. The last of the adrenaline from her ex’s attack—from that asshole’s claim on the woman Adam thought of as his own—faded into contentedness. He could sit like this for hours.
She snuggled her lithe body closer, wrapping him in her heady smell of fire and vanilla as she rubbed against him, and he realized sitting like this for hours would put him in a less contented and more needy frame of mind.
Hell, minutes would. He was getting hard, and she hadn’t done anything but touch him in friendly ways. He ignored the prickling desire coursing through him. Another aggressive male trying to paw her was the last thing Elle needed right now.
“I’m sorry for putting you in danger,” she said.
“Facing danger is my job.”
“Yeah, but I should’ve told you what you were really up against. I just didn’t know how.” She shivered and turned her face up to his. Her eyes filled with distress, and her expression turned disgusted. “He’s a monster. He turns into an animal. He did it in front of me the night you and I met. It was horrible.” Her words cut him, and he didn’t know how to respond. Would she think the same thing of him if he told her about himself? She kept talking, each word another knife. “It’s not like he actually loves me, either. Not really. He kept calling me his mate, making me the only one fate would let him have.”
Adam’s spine stiffened. My mate. Not his. “He called you his mate?” She couldn’t be. Was it even possible some other wolf felt the same claim? “Did he use that exact word?”
“Yes! Isn’t that nuts? I don’t know if a mate is a-a werewolf thing,”—she spit out the word “werewolf” with the horror usually reserved for war and terminal disease—“or just part of his crazy. How awful to believe you’re forced to be with somebody? Like you have no choice in the matter.” She shook her head again and snuggled closer to another, in her estimation, horrible monster. “How fucked up is that for me or any other woman to have some monster obsessing over her? It’s not even love; it’s instinct.”
Anger made his fists ball. The asshole had really done a number on her, making it impossible for her to see what a beautiful thing a mate bond could be. “You’re not his mate.”
“That’s what I told him!”
“Mates aren’t about control. Or they shouldn’t be.”
Her back shot straight as she stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “You’re not defending his crazy, are you?”
“No! He’s psychotic. I’m just saying….” What was he saying? Now wasn’t a great time for a full confession. He pulled her into his lap, trying not to trap her with his arms, but he needed to be closer to her. Her weight felt good settled against him. Her closeness centered him. He put his temple next to hers and breathed her in, wishing he could communicate with touch instead of having to find the right words.
She didn’t slide away. Instead, her tension eased as she released a small laugh. “You must be worried about me.”
He blinked. “Huh?” Worry nearly consumed him.
“Last time you put me in your lap was the first day we met, after you pulled me out of the fire, remember?”
He hugged her tighter at the memory of how he’d almost lost her before he’d even met her. Because of another werewolf. “Yeah. I remember.”
She stiffened. He needed to let her go. She wasn’t his to touch. Not yet. Maybe not ever if he couldn’t convince her most werewolves were decent folk.
Before he released his embrace, she relaxed and put an arm casually around his shoulders. A light pressure against his grip asked for space, but her arm around him assured him she wasn’t going far. He eased up, and she patted his chest. Her touch stuck with her usual friendly way, and he loved it as much as it ramped up his desire for more, confusing him. God, he wanted her.
“What were you trying to say?” she asked.
Her palm flattened against his right pec, and he had no idea what she was talking about. He only wanted her to keep touching him. “What?”
Her fingers tapped against him as her voice stayed calm, helping him think. “You said Phillip’s psychotic. I agree.” His enemy’s name. Good to know. If he got the last name from her, he could track that motherfucker down. “You said something, and it sounded like you were defending werewolf mates. Is this your imagination, or do you have some relevant experience?”
Okay, so now may not be the time to bring up his own species classification, but maybe he could ease her into the idea. “I used to live near werewolves.” That was absolutely true. “They weren’t like him.”
Her mouth opened in surprise. “This whole time you knew they were real? Damn. I would’ve told you a long time ago.” She sagged
. “How do you know your werewolves aren’t the odd ones? Vegetarian werewolves or whatever, while Phillip is normal?”
He laughed. “There aren’t vegetarian werewolves. W-They eat meat. But they don’t eat humans,” he added quickly. He stroked her back, soothing himself as much as he soothed her with the contact. “Werewolves are like people. Some are good and some aren’t. You can’t paint every wolf with the same brush.”
Both palms went to his chest, and she studied him intensely. “They’re still monsters, too strong and too fast for a human to keep up with. And the way they change has to be magic. Now that Phillip’s back, you’re in danger. More danger than I ever told you. And I should have.” She swallowed heavily. “If you want out of your contract, I understand.”
“No. No, hell no.” And leave her to Phillip’s psychosis? Like he’d ever let that happen. But he needed to convince her werewolves weren’t all monsters.
She closed her eyes, face relaxing in relief. “Thank you.” She snuggled up against him again, pressing her body into his, and his body stiffened in response, the wolf raging at him to soothe her with his touch. Naked touch. If he claimed her right, she wouldn’t have to be afraid because Phillip would know she was off-limits.
Wolf logic. Not human. Elle didn’t think that way. He shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position that wouldn’t alert her to his growing problem. “You’re welcome.”
Her voice turned shaky. “Phillip said since he couldn’t woo me like a human, he’d take me like a wolf. I told you, this mate thing is crazy.”
“Take you like a….” Anger simmered through him again. “He got it wrong. When it comes to mating, females are in charge. It’s the same for wolves and werewolves.”
She didn’t say anything, and he couldn’t tell if she believed him or not.
He scooted back against the wall, hauling her with him until they leaned together against the wooden headboard. After a year and a half, he finally knew her big secret. Now, maybe, he could get the whole story. “Tell me what happened.”