Her Guardian Wolf

by Jax Garren

  She crossed her arms, trying to tame her chest and put up a wall between them. “We don’t know the driver’s an asshole.”

  “He’s a man. One look at you, and I know exactly what he’ll be thinking.”

  “We don’t even know it’s a man. Women can drive trucks, too.” She picked her way onto the middle of the highway, bare feet cold with every asphalt step, and waved her arms.

  Adam stood behind the bike, keeping the handlebars between the stranger and his impressive bits and pieces. “Could be a woman. Could be Mother-fucking-Theresa. But odds are against it. Odds are, it’s a man, and he’s in the middle of nowhere, been on the road a long time, and if he’s flagged down by a woman without a bra with her sweet ass hanging out of her pants, guess what he’s going to want.”

  She narrowed her eyes. The same way you want me? In bed but not in a lifelong relationship? “You are such a misanthrope.”

  “I prefer the term realist.”

  “The realist werewolf. That’s a new one.”

  The truck slowed, and she felt Adam’s eyes on her body. Was he looking at her ass again? She had to stop liking his attention. He was a werewolf. She’d spent their ride out to the middle of nowhere wrapping her brain around Adam the wolf. The time had helped her settle on a few important facts:

  One, the wolf wasn’t what made Phillip scary. He scared her because he was a violent, possessive asshole. Being a werewolf just made him worse because he was a violent, possessive asshole with fangs and claws.

  Two, Adam might be a werewolf, too, but he was still Adam. A year and a half of friendship wasn’t suddenly invalidated over something he couldn’t help. If anything, she’d be safer because he could fight Phillip on equal terms. Really, it would be great…except for one thing, the terrible thing she’d realized about halfway here.

  Three, as Phillip’s mate, she knew how werewolf mates worked. His fascination with her had started the moment they’d met. He’d swept her off her feet with exotic dates and obvious signs of affection. When they were together, he couldn’t keep his hands off her, holding her hand, touching her leg, putting his palm on the small of her back. It had been flattering, at least until it had gotten scary, but his unequivocal passion for her had been why she’d given him more second chances than any man should have. Adam, on the other hand, hadn’t shown any marked romantic interest in her until yesterday, and—also until yesterday—he’d kept his paws completely to himself. She was always the one touching him, not the other way around. Besides, did a woman get more than one werewolf mate? It seemed unlikely.

  Four, so the real problem, the one that made her want to cry her eyes out and throw things like a toddler, was that if Adam was a werewolf, he had a mate. And it wasn’t her. She would one day lose him to some other woman, one he’d fall for at first sight and shower with affection and put his hands and mouth all over in wonderful ways, and she could do nothing but wait for it to happen.

  Put it all together, and she needed to get Adam back to Los Lobos, see if anyone there could fix the Phillip Problem, and leave Adam to his fated future before the stirrings of love she felt turned into something so solid and real her heart would be shattered when he left her. Hell, maybe he had a mate already waiting for him back home. The thought pissed her off, left her scowling in anger right as the truck stopped beside her.

  “Need a lift?” The driver, indeed a man, looked from her to Adam, eyes wary as he gazed at the big man. “Why’s he nekkid?” He cleared his throat, blushing. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

  She forced what she hoped was a reasonably pleasant expression onto her face. Her troubles weren’t the trucker’s fault, and she needed him in a generous mood before Adam turned felonious. “Actually, that’s why we pulled you over. We don’t need a lift, but we were hoping we could beg a set of clothes off of you.” The man wasn’t as broad in the shoulders as Adam and more than a little paunchier in the gut, but a T-shirt and belted jeans would probably work. Now for the hard part. “I don’t have any money on me, but if you give me an address, I will be happy to send cash as soon as I’m able. In a few days, tops.”

  His gaze hooded. Of course he didn’t believe her. I’ll put cash in the mail? It sounded like such a lie, even to her, and she knew she meant it.

  She didn’t want Adam to rob the guy, but they were on a motorcycle, it was early May in Wyoming, and clothes were not optional. What other options did she have? She looked back at Adam. He stood at full attention behind the motorcycle, and even with no stated plan between them, she knew he waited for her signal or the trucker’s motion to spring into action. One nod, and Adam would protect her and take what he needed.

  “Those chainy things look an awful lot like that, uh, Tammy jewelry Lady Gaga wore at the Grammys.”

  She turned back to the trucker, who eyed her earrings in fascination. She touched them. They were, in fact, the prototype for what Gaga had worn. “Thamani. Thah-mahn-ee. It means precious in Swahili.” The media kept mispronouncing her company’s name as Tammany, like she’d named it after the defunct American political group instead of a beautiful African word. This did not surprise her. Irritated her. But didn’t surprise her.

  “Yeah. That.” He cleared his throat and quit staring at the gold chain she’d woven into two holes on one side and a different length chain she’d woven into two holes and a cartilage piercing on the other. It wasn’t a finished piece, but the thin asymmetry was indicative of her style.

  Her irritation over the media’s mispronunciation wore off, and she blinked as she realized a man in a mustard-stained Chicago Cubs hoodie had recognized her work. “You follow high-fashion jewelry?”

  He laughed, a hand in the air warding off the notion as ridiculous. “Oh, I don’t. But my husband is nuts for it. Anything Gaga does, right? Not that I’ll ever be able to afford him one of those. How’d you come by it? Even the tiny stuff costs a paycheck.” He grimaced. “I looked.”

  She couldn’t help a grin. Score one for Adam; the driver was a man. He was, however, deeply wrong about the driver hitting on her. There might be a way out of this that didn’t involve larceny. Would the trucker believe her if she told him she was Thamani? In this setting, wearing this lack of an outfit, probably not. Wait, he had a cell phone in the cupholder. “Thamani’s owned by Elle Montgomery. Look her up on your phone.” Since her star-studded debut, she’d been interviewed for a few human interest pieces—nothing too high profile. But it meant her name and picture, in all its Photoshopped glory, were out there and easy to find.

  Giving her a strange look, he did as she requested. He showed her the most popular photo of her, the one where she’d been digitally bleached to nearly as pale as Adam. At least her black hair spiraled around her in its natural bounce. Unlike now with the untamed afro the motorcycle had created.

  Maybe he still wouldn’t believe her. She sighed. “Photoshop. And it’s been a bad-hair day.” She patted her frizzy puff. “Bad day in general.”

  He nodded his head slowly, like she was a crazy person. “Apparently.”

  “Your husband doesn’t have pierced ears, does he?”

  “No.” He shook the phone at her. “You’re saying you’re this woman who makes these things?”

  “Yeah, I’m Elle. Good to meet you.” Still with no idea if he believed her, she picked up her foot and showed off the delicate, gold rope around her ankle with its loose assortment of mismatched beads. It was one of the first pieces she’d been truly proud of, and she never took it off. “I never put this one up for sale. I will give it to you with a signed note of authenticity. I can have the official certificate mailed when I talk to my agent. What I want in return is for my friend over there to get his pick of clothes from your suitcase.” She crossed her arms. “I could use a shirt, too.”

  Once more, the trucker looked at the phone then looked at her, examining the lines of her real face against the mostly real ones on screen. After a moment, he pulled his suitcase int
o the passenger seat.

  Was she really about to trade a seven hundred fifty dollar piece of gold art for clothes out of a trucker’s bag?

  She glanced back at Adam, keeping vigilant sentry and partial modesty. Was she really in love with a man who was destined for someone else?

  Yes. To both those questions, the answer was yes.

  ***

  Mouth dry, heart squeezed tight, Adam turned off the road and into the rocky forest outside Los Lobos. A road didn’t pass through town, keeping outsiders out, but you could make it with an off-road vehicle, like his bike. The landscape had shifted drastically in the past hour, from miles of grassy nothing to the evergreen hills and striped gray rocks of his home. They’d passed idyllic pools and fields starting to blossom with spring wildflowers, and every mile beckoned him farther.

  Home. He was bringing his mate home.

  Elle held him tightly, and he wondered what thoughts kept her so quiet. They hadn’t spoken since he’d slid on the ill-fitting outfit—ill-fitting but far better than nothing. He was grateful and humbled by Elle’s sacrifice; that anklet meant a lot to her. At least, after he dressed, she’d accepted the offer of his jacket. She’d rested, unmoving against his back, for the majority of the ride.

  Now that they were truly here, a place he hadn’t seen in ten long years, he wanted nothing more than to push on until they passed the old barn and he was eating a crappy burger at Gee’s Bar.

  An unlikely dream scenario. In all likelihood, Ryker, the pack’s enforcer and the most vicious fighter Adam had ever met, would find them before they got close, kill him, and scare Elle so badly she would run for the Canadian border. He needed to explain the situation to Elle in a way she understood. No, in a way she would believe him regarding the severity.

  He stopped his bike by the edge of a wide, shallow stream, cut the motor, and waited for Elle to adjust to the stillness. After a moment she leaned back, and her hands slipped down his abs to rest on his thighs. It felt good, so blissfully right, to be close to her like this with the wind through shivering aspens and the quiet patter of the brook the only sounds. As the fumes of the motorcycle dissipated into the forest, the smell of ponderosa pine and clean water, mulch and new grass soothed him.

  Maybe this could work. Ryker wasn’t a total ass. Hell, he’d had a blood oath to obey Magnum, and he’d still done a helluva lot better job protecting the pack from Magnum’s excesses than Adam. Maybe if he squeezed in an explanation before Ryker killed him, they could work something out for Elle’s protection.

  Maybe. It all depended on who ruled as alpha. Drew Tao? Because that would be helpful. Or somebody new? Somebody who might be even more deranged than their old alpha?

  “What did you stop for?” Elle asked, her voice loud in the forest’s stillness.

  “This is not going to be a joyful homecoming.”

  She huffed a disbelieving breath. “Yeah, you’ve mentioned you were a bad guy.” She leaned forward until they were face-to-face. “I know you, Adam. You weren’t as bad as you thought.”

  He shook his head. “I left ten years ago, Elle. I was eighteen and did things I’m not proud of. Hurt members of my pack.” He looked away from her disbelieving gaze. “I don’t even know who’s in charge right now or what things are like. Humans—”

  “Aren’t supposed to go to Los Lobos. You’ve mentioned that, too. Look.” She touched his chin, turning him back to face her. Her dark eyes filled with compassion. “You were eighteen—a kid. Anyone with a lick of sense will give you a second chance to see what kind of man you’ve become. And you’re a good man.” She released his jaw, but he couldn’t look away from the faith in her gaze. “I’m not going back to Boulder while Phillip and his pack of hired goons are after me. You told me wolves weren’t all like him, and I believe you. Let’s go to your people, to your pack. Let’s talk to them like they’re reasonable, uh, werewolves.”

  She stumbled over the terms, and her sweet fluster drove him to touch her. His fingers twined in her wild hair—she was gonna lose it when she saw the crazy, lovely mess—and he pressed his forehead to hers.

  To his surprise, she stiffened and pulled back. He tried to let her go, but his fingers caught in the tangle of her hair. “Oh, uh….” He didn’t want to yank his hand out and hurt her.

  She laughed, breaking the tension—what was this tension about?—and leaned forward so he could unwind himself. Face down where he couldn’t see her expression, she swallowed thickly and said in a nervous voice, “You’re not, uh, my mate, right? What we have, it’s not…matehood?”

  Oh. He grimaced and kept his mouth shut until his hand was free and she could look up. He wanted to see her face. He wanted to look her in the eyes and tell her the truth, but the fear in her voice…. Phillip had abused the word, turning it into a weapon. She didn’t even like the idea of mates because what he saw as natural and beautiful, she saw as forced. It would make what he felt seem less real to her if she thought he didn’t choose her of his own free will.

  He picked his words carefully. Eventually, he’d tell her the truth, but one problem at a time. First they needed to get into town. “I’m here because I genuinely care about you. You’re my best friend.” She nodded, her gaze dropping before returning to his. He couldn’t decipher her thoughts, so he kept talking, trying to convey what she meant to him without scaring her. “When you found me, I was a depressed alcoholic with no purpose. Since you came into my life, it has color again. Meaning.” He touched her cheek, made her look up. Her expression conveyed nothing, her eyes too shaded in the dancing shadows of the trees. He didn’t know how she’d take his words, but he spoke them anyway. “My body is alive because my heart beats. My soul is alive because of you.”

  Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. “Oh, Adam.” She cupped her hand around his nape and pulled him to her. They kissed, lips melding, tongues clinging, bodies thrumming and alive, and so full of want. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing her close. He wanted to drag her off the bike and take her right here in the woods, on the edge of his homeland. To lay her down on a carpet of pine leaves by the sounds of the brook and beneath the canopy of the trees. To finally claim her as his with the love of their bodies and a mark on the spot where her shoulder curved into her neck.

  His mate. His best friend. The love of his life.

  She pulled back first, licking the taste of his kiss from her lips. Her tears dropped, spilling in rivulets down her cheeks.

  “Why are you crying?” He stroked his thumb across her face, catching the next drop as it fell.

  She sniffed, wiped her face on the flannel sleeve of the trucker’s wardrobe, and pulled even farther away. “We need to get into town. Let’s go before Phillip catches up.”

  He wanted to protest until she said the asshole’s name. Phillip may not know what route they’d taken, but he’d be an idiot not to know where they were going, and Craig and Jim could get him there. Adam must get Elle into the safety of Los Lobos and then hope for the best.

  He started the bike, Elle wrapped her arms back around him, and they continued through the spring-thickened forest.

  It wasn’t long before the first desolate house came into view. He slowed as they passed the Connors’ old estate, a once-thriving ranch where they’d held an annual bash at the summer solstice, serving endless mugs of home-brewed beer under strings of colored lights.

  The windows had been smashed in, the roof caved in numerous places, and the whole abode abandoned. He shuddered, appalled at the change. Before he’d left, an exodus had already begun, wolves sneaking out in the night to escape Magnum’s cruel reign. The Connors, though, were a local light on the outskirts of the pack land, far enough away to make a reasonable escape from the shit going down in the village. If they were gone….

  He pushed his bike faster, finding abandoned home after home, each in worse shape than the last, each one another testament to Magnum’s atrocities.

  Hell, what
had become of his pack? What was he bringing Elle back to?

  It wasn’t long before he noticed a wolf dancing in and out of the trees around them, russet fur a stark contrast with the spring green.

  Ryker had found them, and he wanted Adam to know it.

  He acknowledged the enforcer with a salute and slowed his bike, but until Ryker stopped them, he’d keep moving toward the safety of town. After another mile, Ryker dashed ahead, his wolf’s legs faster on the uneven ground than Adam could be with a precious human on his bike.

  So they’d have a “welcoming” committee when they arrived. He only hoped they’d listen before attacking, or he would turn Elle around and plow to the Canadian border himself.

  Chapter Seven

  Adam’s motorcycle slowed as they approached fresh construction at what appeared to be the outskirts of a town. Elle hadn’t known what to expect of Los Lobos, but burnt-out shell after wrecked shell of once-good homes hadn’t been it. At least the few residences here, in the town itself, seemed in good repair. Fresh paint, new wood, solid construction—these newer buildings were the first things she’d seen without gaping holes. Nearby, what she’d guess was a town hall was going up. A beacon of new hope in a town gone to shit, she might call it.

  Speaking of hope, she didn’t have much for herself. She’d worked up the guts to flat out ask Adam if they were mates, and he’d said many beautiful words, words she’d long to hear if they were both human. But he hadn’t said the one thing that mattered.

  She squeezed him anyway, unable to help herself. A line of men came out to meet them, forming a shield between her and Adam and the entrance to the village. The men stood with pride, heads high and figures lean but not gaunt. Los Lobos was a town in the process of righting itself, and it showed in the people.

  Uh, the wolves.

  Adam sighed in what sounded like relief. “Drew Tao.” He nodded at the man in the center. “Good to see you here.”