Claimed by the Pack - The Complete Series: Werewolf Shifter Romance

by Kimber White

  “Mal, go,” I said. “Please.”

  I felt Tucker’s heartbeat rise and fall, growing steady under my touch. Mal dipped his head down, even as he kept his golden eyes fixed on Tucker. Then, he stepped backward and took to the woods in a great, leaping bound. Reed followed close behind.

  Then I went to Tucker’s side, and pressed my hand into his. I led him away, and climbed on the Harley behind him. I wrapped my arms around him as tight as I could as the bike roared to life beneath me. The wind shifted, and the woods around us grew hot from the approaching flames. Barrett and Jake came back out of the cabin. Human again, they were both drenched in sweat, but fully clothed. Barrett’s mouth was set into a grim line as he opened the door to the Jeep and climbed in. Tucker gave the pair one last nod, and then he hit the throttle and we zoomed away, leaving the blazing forest behind us.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Tucker hit the highway at a breakneck pace. Wind whipped across my face as we put distance between us and Hidden Forest. I had a thousand questions, but Tucker didn’t mean to stop until we reached Wild Lake, and the place he and the others called home. We rode through the night. Tucker zipped and weaved through traffic at frightening speeds. Jake and Barrett stayed close behind in the Jeep. Tucker blew through every speed limit on the Interstate, and yet we were never stopped.

  The further north we went, the fewer towns we encountered. We blew through Traverse City, the last major town on our route. Billboards pointed the way to the Wild Lake Outfitters mega-store. It took my breath away when we finally passed it. The store was massive, at least as large as a shopping mall. Bright colored Kayaks and pontoon boats lined one outer wall. A bronze statue of two giant grizzlies locked in battle formed an archway into the main entrance. Another massive bronze statue of a howling wolf perched on the roof. Tucker slowed the bike.

  “I’ve only ever seen pictures of it online,” I shouted. “That’s all yours?”

  “It’s ours. The Wild Lake packs all have a stake. I’ll give you a tour some day soon. I mostly just go to the board meetings now. We’ve got good people running the day to day.”

  I squeezed Tucker tight as he revved the engine and sped past the exit. We still had far to go. Finally, Tucker left the highway for the back roads. Only then did he finally slow down. It almost seemed as though we’d traveled to another planet. There was nothing but dense woods on all sides of us. As I pressed my cheek against Tucker’s back, I felt his heart rate slow. The deeper we went into the woods, the calmer he grew, until he’d slowed the bike to twenty miles per hour or so. On and on we rode with the Jeep close behind, but barely any other sign of civilization. I squeezed my arms around Tucker as the woods closed in. Too many times in the last weeks, woods like these represented threat. I struggled to keep my pulse steady along with Tucker’s, even though I expected Asher or his pack to come leaping out at any moment, intending to do me harm. I knew Tucker and the others would protect me, but I couldn’t stand the thought of any of them getting hurt again because of it.

  “We’re almost there,” he shouted back to me, the sound of his voice almost startling in the serenity of the woods around us. Tall pines and birch trees provided a natural canopy against the heat of the rising sun. Tucker took a sharp right, leaving the pavement behind for a dirt road narrow enough that I could reach out and grab the low branches on either side of us. The Jeep slowed too.

  Where the foliage grew the thickest, Tucker finally cut the engine and pulled the bike to the side. “We’re out of road,” he said. “We can walk the rest of the way. It’s not far.”

  I slid off the back of the bike and tossed my helmet to Tucker. Barrett parked the Jeep right behind us. Jake emerged from the passenger side with a grin on his face a mile wide. Wherever we were headed, this was a special place to them. I could feel it in my blood as their pulses quickened with excitement. Tucker gave a quick nod to Jake. Jake smiled even wider, his blue eyes flashing as he ran through the woods. Barrett shook his head and spread his hands.

  “After you, boss,” he said.

  Tucker looped his arm around my waist and kissed the top of my head. “Come on, it’s time for me to take you home.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Home.

  Since I’d lost my father, I never thought anyplace would ever hold the lure of home again for me. Not in the same way, at least. My feelings for Tucker and the pack were still so new, so incredible. As we walked hand in hand down a path through the underbrush, a calm settled over my heart that came straight from Tucker, Jake, and Barrett’s emotions. Burrs and brambles stuck to my hair, and I’d give anything for an elastic band or something to hold it back with. Wherever we were going, with each step, I knew I would look more and more like some woodland creature myself. My hair was in hopeless disarray, my shirt was torn where I’d caught it on a low hanging branch, and my skin was caked with soot, dirt and sweat from the wildfires and hours on the back of Tucker’s bike.

  And then we reached a clearing. At the bottom of a steep hill, the woods thinned to reveal an oasis in the wilderness. A large, two-story farmhouse stood there, with a wraparound porch, complete with a white picket fence and porch swings. In the distance, I could make out a red barn and another trail leading off deeper into the woods. Tucker squeezed my hand and pulled me close. Then he put two fingers in his mouth and let out a shrill, short whistle that he repeated twice. Barrett and Jake stood next to us shoulder to shoulder. We waited half a beat. Then the front porch screen flew open and what I saw next shocked me almost as much as the day I saw Tucker shift into a wolf right before my eyes.

  A short, squat woman with curly gray hair ran down the porch steps toward us, waving her hands. She wore a bright yellow house coat and wiped her hands on a blue kitchen towel. Her doughy face split into a wide grin as she saw us. She threw her hands up, then broke into a sprint through the grass. She had bare feet and shiny plump legs, but she was surprisingly agile for a woman of her age and girth. I guessed late sixties. I liked her immediately.

  Tucker left my side and crossed the yard in strong, sure strides. When he reached her, she slapped her hands to her knees then threw her arms around Tucker’s neck. He kissed the top of her head and twirled her once, picking her up as if she weighed no more than a feather. Her squeal warmed my heart.

  “Who is that?” I whispered from the side of my mouth to Jake.

  Jake laughed. “That’s Pat,” he explained. “She takes care of us. That is, before we found you.” He shot me a side wink that melted my heart a little bit more.

  “Come on,” Barrett said. “She’s going to take it out on Tucker if we don’t get down there and introduce you.”

  I grabbed Barrett and Jake’s hands and we walked down together.

  Pat had her hands on Tucker’s ears, and she drew him down to her eye level to plant another kiss square on his forehead. Then she let him go, and her face beamed even brighter as she saw Barrett and Jake. She went to them and gave them the same treatment.

  “What have you done with Mal and Reed?” she asked, letting her voice drop to a sterner tone.

  “They took the scenic route,” Tucker answered. “They’ll be here by morning.”

  Finally, Pat turned her attention to me. She put her hands on her hips, raised a brow at Tucker and then took two steps toward me.

  I put a hand out to shake hers. I opened my mouth to introduce myself but Pat didn’t give me the chance. She trained that smile on me, her bright green eyes danced, creased at the corners with deep laugh lines. Then she threw her arms around me and drew me close.

  “Oh, my dear,” she said. “What took you so long?”

  I shrugged and shot a look to Tucker over Pat’s head. He rolled his eyes as he smiled. “She’s melodramatic.”

  Pat broke her embrace and stepped back. She swatted Tucker with her dish towel and shook her head. “Don’t pay these beasts any mind. Let’s get you inside, poor thing. It looks like they’ve dragged you through hell and back. Did yo
u feed her at least?”

  Tucker put his palms up. “We didn’t really have the luxury of stopping.”

  Pat had her arm around me and led me away from the pack, and toward the house. She was already done listening to anything Tucker or the others had to say. “We’ll get you a hot bath and a hot meal.”

  “Thank you,” I said, and it sounded like heaven. Then I realized another pressing need. “I’m afraid I kind of lost all of my things back at Hidden Forest. Is there a store around here I could go send Tucker or the others to pick up some clothes?”

  Pat waved her hand and gave me a wry smile. “You aren’t the first girl these dogs have dragged through the woods. I’ve got plenty you can wear. And we’ve got enough Wild Lake Outfitters merchandise here to fill that barn back here. Hope you like fleece. Don’t you worry about anything. You’re under my roof now.”

  I smiled and gave Pat a squeeze back. Though I’d only just met her, she was warm, welcoming, and clearly loved my pack. Whatever her role with them, for the first time in longer than I could remember, I did feel like maybe I’d come home.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Good as her promise, Pat drew me a hot bath in an old fashioned claw footed tub on the second floor. She fixed up a bedroom for me at the end of the hallway, and set out a clean white t-shirt, cut off jean shorts, and undergarments. Just as she’d said, everything fit me perfectly. I ran a brush through my wet hair as I sat at the edge of the bed. There was a soft rap on the door and Pat poked her head through the crack. I smiled and gestured her in with the hair brush.

  “Thank you,” I said. “In fact, that’s not even adequate to express how grateful I am. I think that was the best bath I’ve ever taken.”

  Pat smiled and sat on the edge of the bed in the space next to me. She put a motherly hand on my knee. “Anything you need. You just let me know.”

  “What have you done with the others?” I asked.

  Pat laughed. “Those dogs aren’t going to rest easy until they’ve done a sweep of the woods. I don’t know what happened back there, but Tucker was coiled tighter than a rattlesnake. Let them prowl and hunt for a while then they’ll be able to handle being men again. After they’re done, they know they’re not fit to step back into my house until they’ve showered and changed themselves. A few hours tops. We’ll see them again at breakfast.”

  With that simple explanation, Pat answered a lot of the questions swirling in my brain. She knew what Tucker and the others were. A sense of peace washed over me. I felt like I could, and should, let my guard down around her. I would feel even better if I could have just a few minutes alone with Tucker to be sure.

  “It’s not always an easy life running with wolves,” Pat said, and I wondered if she too might be able to sense my thoughts the way Tucker did. Another startling thought occurred to me. Was she a werewolf too?

  “Are you . . . like them?” I asked.

  Pat smiled. “Me? No, honey. I’m just your average overweight old lady. I’m a friend of the pack, as they say.”

  I wanted to ask who “they” were, but it seemed the least pressing issue on my mind. “How long have you known Tucker and the others?”

  Pat set a gentle hand at the center of my back. “We’ve got time. You must be starving. Why don’t we head down to the kitchen? I’ve got a heaping plate of fried chicken and corn on the cob sitting under a warmer for you. I think this conversation would be better on a full stomach.”

  To prove her point, my stomach growled loud enough for her to hear it. Pat laughed and heaved herself off the bed. I followed her down into the kitchen. As big as the house was, it had a cozy comfort to it I wasn’t used to. Likely built in the early twentieth century, the house had arched ceilings, large dormer windows, and rich pine flooring with four inch baseboards. The kitchen itself kept its Depression-era charm with a deep olive porcelain sink, wood burning stove and a collection of tin cans lining the tops of the cherry wood cabinetry.

  I took a seat at the kitchen table festooned with a red and white checkered tablecloth. Then, true to her word, Pat set a plate of homemade fried chicken in front of me, along with a steaming ear of corn on the cob. She took a seat next to me and rested her chin on her palm to watch me. Just like a kindly grandmother, her smile widened with each bite I took.

  “Welcome to Wild Lake,” she finally said. “We’re so glad to have you.”

  I nodded as I bit into my corn and wiped away a dollop of butter just before it ran down my chin.

  “I asked how long you’ve known Tucker’s pack.”

  Pat smiled. “That you did. I’ve known Tucker since he was born. The others too. I knew his father when he was a boy. Jared McGraw. Now he was something fine to see. Tucker looks more and more like him with each passing year. And I was there when Tucker took over his father’s pack. Such a bittersweet day that was. As they always are. When one wolf falls, another rises to take his place.”

  There was a wistful sadness to Pat’s tone that tugged at my heart. Tucker had never talked about his father, or told me the story about how he became Alpha. I sensed that someday soon, it would be information I would need. Before I could ask another question on the subject, there was a great clanging behind me and the scraping of a table leg across the floor.

  “Dammit, Patsy, how many times to I have to tell you those damn tins are a menace!”

  The tins in question were a collection of vintage soap and flour containers. Pat had them hung from hooks along one wall. Four of them swung wildly where this new stranger had banged into them as he walked into the kitchen. He was roughly Pat’s age, and maybe her husband. He was tall, over six feet, and had probably been several inches taller in his prime. But now, he stood hunched over with a crooked back, and waved a knotted pine cane in the air. Balding with several wisps of white hair at the sides, his skin was like tanned leather. Three lines of an old jagged scar cut across his face from temple to temple, leaving his pale blue eyes vacant.

  “Those damn tins have been hanging in the same place for fifty years, Harold. For a blind man, your other four senses are for shit.”

  Harold waved a middle finger, along with his cane, in Pat’s direction. Then, he turned his head toward me and took two steps forward. I froze, not sure what to make of this Harold. He reached out and planted a hand on the table right next to me and took a deep breath above my head. Then, his leathery face broke into a smile, revealing a straight row of white teeth. He extended a hand directly in front of me.

  “So you’re Tucker’s mate,” he said. “It’s about damn time he got on with that.”

  A deep blush flamed my cheeks as my heart tripped at the phrase. Tucker’s mate. Maybe I should be offended at the objectification. I was, a little. But, it underscored Tucker’s absence at the moment and the mere mention of him heated my blood. “I’m Neve,” I said. Stealing a glance toward Pat, she nodded and waved her hand, encouraging me to take Harold’s and shake it. His grip was firm, but he didn’t try to crush my knuckles together like some men do. He surprised me even more by leaning down and kissing the top of my hand in a courtly fashion.

  “Have a seat Harold,” Pat said. “I saved you a plate, which you can have if you mind your manners.”

  Harold plunked down next to me, and leaned his cane against the table. He dug into a drumstick with comical gusto. “I knew there was a reason we keep you around, Patsy,” he said, waving the leg in her direction.

  Pat sat down across from me. “This is Harold,” she said.

  “I got that part,” I answered.

  “He’s my brother. He’s been a friend to the pack as long as I have.”

  “Longer,” Harold protested. “Luke McGraw and I were practically raised together.”

  At the mention of Luke McGraw, Pat cast her eyes downward and I saw the hint of a blush color her own cheeks. Her voice grew quiet. “Luke was Tucker’s grandfather. He’s the one who brought the first of the packs to Wild Lake. Our grandfather owned the land and struck a bargain with
Luke to let him hunt and raise their families here. Our families have honored that pact ever since.”

  “First of the packs? Is there more than one?”

  Pat nodded. “Oh yes. There are four packs that call these lands home. Dozens of wolves.”

  “Place is crawling with ‘em,” Harold said. “And five packs. Tucker’s finally come home, Patsy.”

  She smiled wide and leaned back in her chair. “That he has. And we have this lovely girl to thank for that.”

  I took a breath, needing a second to process the information. Five packs. Dozens of wolf shifters and their families. I had so many more questions for Harold and Pat, and for Tucker, too. She’d guessed he wouldn’t be home until morning, and my heart sank at the thought of it. The ever present ache of his absence settled in my core. I wanted him. I needed him. It was like I couldn’t take a deep enough breath when he wasn’t nearby.

  “You poor thing,” Pat said, placing a comforting hand over mine. “You’ve had a lot to take in over these last few days, haven’t you? I’d forgotten how it can be in the beginning.”

  “Agh,” Harold made a low noise. “She seems to be bearing up just fine. Tucker knew what he was doing when he found you, didn’t he? You’re a strong one, aren’t you?” He nudged his shoulder into mine and I barked out a laugh. He seemed kind and harmless, but he was a nutty old man.

  “Never mind him,” Pat said. She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, ensuring I was looking straight at her. “I told you before, if you need anything, you come to me. I don’t understand all that’s happened at Hidden Forest, but any fool can see you’ve been through some trauma in the last few days. Tucker’s been with shifters for so long he forgets what it’s like for us plain old humans. But Harold’s right, I think. You’re a strong girl. You’re going to be just fine.”

  “Thank you,” I said and my heart swelled with emotion. Pat cared for Tucker. That was plain. Harold did, too. And by extension, they were starting to care for me. So, for the second time, Tucker’s world had brought me a sense of belonging, and maybe even a new type of family. I took a breath and choked back tears. If I gave into that now, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop.