Wild Hearts

by Wild Hearts (lit)

  “Miss Smith, you look as if I’ve frightened you. Is everything okay?” the man asked.

  Shyla absorbed the richness of his voice, responding with something that sounded like a purr from her throat. What is wrong with me?

  “And you are?”

  “Coal Demmering. I was a friend of Jacob’s. He told me you’d be coming out. Asked to keep an eye on you.”

  “Oh?” You can keep an eye on me all you want. “He never mentioned you.”

  “I’m not surprised. He aimed to keep any association with Hood River separate from you for your safety.”

  Her safety?

  Coal lifted his chin and unfolded his arms from his chest. He slid his hands into his pockets. “I’m sure your trip out here was taxing. You look tired. Is there anything I can do for you to help settle you in?”

  “Uh, no. I think I’ll manage just fine.” Shyla looked him over quickly. His choice of black attire sure fit his name. “Coal.”

  A hint of a grin tugged the corner of his mouth. Even the dirty mesh screen couldn’t distort this man enough to keep fantastical thoughts of him naked from her mind.

  “Well, if you insist you’re okay, I’ll let you get some rest. Jacy and I look forward to spending tomorrow with you. Are you familiar with the town at all?”

  “Gramps sent me a map a year ago. I live in New York. I think I’ll fair well.” Shyla offered a small smile, warmth touching her face.

  “We can pick you up around ten, grab a bite to eat, and show you around. I wouldn’t suggest taking to the area solo. There’s been…well, some unusual occurrences lately.” Coal took a step back, casting a glance toward the lake. The soft rays of white moonlight merely defined the hard cuts of his face. As he turned back to her, she could’ve sworn she saw the moonlight reflect off his dark eyes. She blinked. “Have you unpacked your car?”

  “Not yet. I’ll do it in the morning.”

  “I’ll bring your stuff up to the door and leave my cell number for you, should you need anything during the night.”

  Shyla inhaled sharply. She knew better than to take his concern for anything more than that, concern. Somehow, though, she detected a subtle double entendre in his comment. The growing grin on his mouth didn’t help her think otherwise.

  Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. If Gramps left this man in charge of her safety—why her safety would be of such concern was beyond her—then she could live with the creepy crawlies for a week. Hell, maybe she’d even take to the wicked side her thoughts rolled through at the moment. Coal appeared every inch a seductive creature who might teach her a thing or two about bed play. Her pathetic love life needed a bit of sprucing up. Why not indulge while she tended to more personal agendas?

  Coal’s gaze snapped to hers. He stared at her for a long moment. Then, Shyla watched him turn toward where she parked her car.

  “Darling, you may wish to censor your thoughts. I can hear them,” he said, stepping off the porch and nearly blending with the night.

  Shyla froze. What the hell was he talking about? He could hear her thoughts? No one, unless telepathy could be believed, heard another person’s thoughts. Surely, this man…

  Shyla rubbed her cheeks, trying to rid herself of the hot flush that colored them. Her lower belly curled and itched. Damn, this trip just might prove to be more than organizing Gramps’s things, especially if Coal consumed her waking hours.

  Chapter Two

  Laela watched Timothy open the door, stretching her naked body along Josef. He lowered his head and left a trail of arousing nips along the back of her neck as she splayed her hand over the solid planes of his chest. The heady scent of sex and sweat hung like a dense cloud in the small one-room cottage. She playfully combed her nails over the dark, crisp hair around his nipple, but her attention focused on the door. She waited a full minute before someone stepped through.

  Her nostrils flared as the acrid scent of blood assaulted her. Her eyes widened as Cory, one of the two wolves she sent out to Jacob’s cabin, dropped onto the floor at the side of her bed. She pressed to her hands and knees and gracefully climbed over Josef even as he sat up. Hopping to her feet, she gazed upon her wounded pup. Blood stained his slashed arms and face. Blood caked his light brown hair. Vicious gouges created by wolf fangs punctured the side of his neck.

  Laela nudged him with her toe. He moaned. She looked up at Timothy.

  “Get Rian to clean him up and dress his wounds. I need him alive.” She looked down at Cory. “Where’s Brier?”

  “D–Dead,” Cory gasped.

  “How?” Brier? Dead? That couldn’t be. He was one of her strongest wolves. Little could bring him down. “Surely he’s not dead.”

  “D–Dead. Th–Throat opened.”

  Laela knelt beside her injured cohort and leaned close to his bloodied head, inhaling the mix of scents on him. Brier’s masculine scent was most pronounced beneath the sheet of blood, but another subtle flavor tinged the back of her nostrils. She leaned closer, her nose an inch from the bleeding wound at Cory’s neck. She flicked her tongue out, lapped a small spot of blood, and then leaned back.

  “So I see,” she murmured.

  Heavy footsteps pounded up to the porch. Rian stepped through the door. His honey-hued eyes dropped to Cory, his lips pulling tight. Ice hardened the expression on his handsome face.

  She smiled at him. “They think they can kill one of my best wolves for the sake of keeping that abomination alive. Jacy should know better than to raise a challenge against me.”

  “Jacy did this?” Rian asked. He lowered himself to the floor and caught Laela’s gaze. Wild anger lit behind his eyes. “And Coal?”

  “Those two lapdogs don’t do anything apart. If Cory speaks truth and Brier is dead, I can assure you Coal was responsible. He’s the only wolf I know who could bring Brier down.” Fury brought a twitch to her mouth. Those two men belonged to her, not to that puny white. But if they wanted to play savior to a helpless creature, she’d let them suffer the anguish of loss. Maybe then they’d come around. She climbed to her feet and waved at Cory. “Get him out of here. Take care of his wounds. Come back to me when he’s awake.”

  Rian nodded, scooping the fallen man into his arms and leaving the small cottage. She shooed Timothy and Josef out the door as well, slamming it shut in their faces.

  She needed to be alone.

  Two years ago, she intercepted a letter from Jacob Smith to one Shyla Smith in New York. Reluctant to leave her home, she sought the address from the label, but the insanity of the metropolitan area forced her back into her calm world. The clash of noises and sirens deafened her. The putrid smells of rot and smog made her sick. The fast-paced life made her dizzy.

  Regardless of her failed outcome to track down a possible descendant of Jacob Smith, she sent out a fair warning to the other packs. There was a good chance a white wolf survived the slayings from over two decades ago.

  And if one survived, chances are more did too.

  Laela flexed her fisted hands and stepped up to a full-length mirror, the only mirror in her small abode. She held her own frosty gaze. For twenty-five years, she ruled over these packs. She was the alpha female. The only person ever to hold authority over her had been Jacob, and his current residence lay six feet under. No one threatened her now, and she’d be damned to let a city girl and two rebel pack mates try to yank her wild empire out from beneath her feet.

  If Shyla Smith did indeed continue the white wolf line, all of her hard work would be wasted. All of her fawning males would vie for Shyla’s attention.

  Laela would become a nothing, a no one.

  “So you think you can come up here to the mountains and reclaim what is ours? Your mother died because of it, child. So did your aunts. We reclaimed our place among the wild, a place taken from us when the first white wolf was born. You will not succeed. Your fate is marked by death, just like the rest of them.”

  Yes, Shyla Smith came to Hood River to put Jacob’s things
in order. She may never have known about her heritage before her trip, but she would understand it completely before the full moon in two days.

  Another blood moon called.

  “Let the legacy live again.”

  * * * *

  At precisely ten o’clock, Shyla heard a knock on the front door.

  Drinking the last of her morning joe, heart thudding against her chest, she grabbed her wool shawl and went to greet Coal.

  She came up short of barreling through the flimsy screen door and into a new stranger.

  “Ah, you’re expecting the brooder. I’m his more lighthearted counterpart, Jacy Roddery. Nice to meet you. I see you’re ready?”

  Shyla narrowed her gaze on this new beauty standing on her Gramps’s front porch. Apparently her grandfather didn’t come up short on the handsome associates list.

  Jacy, roughly about the same judged height as Coal, definitely appeared more playful than his friend. His smile, a flashy display of incredible white teeth and a mischievous curl at the left corner of his mouth, melted her heart and stole her breath. Dark blond hair brushed over his smooth forehead, a stark comparison to the dark sunglasses hiding his eyes, eyes that, she knew by the heated trail, scoured her from head to toe.

  “Um, yes. Coal mentioned you last night.” Shyla grabbed her purse off the small table against the wall and pulled the door closed behind her. Jacy closed the screen door softly and held a hand out for her. She shook it. “Nice to meet you.” Her gaze coasted over the small open yard. A sleek black Mercedes idled behind her rental car, the polished chrome trim reflecting the early morning sunlight. The driver’s side door opened, and Coal stepped out of the car like some dark, forbidden god. Dressed in all black except for his darker than dark blue jeans, he definitely deserved the fluttering of her heart. She hadn’t noticed his hair last night. He had it pulled half back, and it fell in a thick cape to his elbows. “So he’s here too. Maybe I should ask why my grandfather thought I needed two bodyguards?”

  “It’s a complicated matter. We’ll go over everything with you at breakfast.” Jacy took a sharp breath. “Did you eat already?”

  “No, but I don’t function well without coffee, so I had a cup.” Shyla turned to Jacy and smiled. The sun’s golden rays played off the natural highlights in his hair and hinted to a bronze hue in his skin. The man made her mouth dry and her blood heat to the point of embarrassment. She dipped her head and turned a shoulder to Jacy, hiding her flushed face. “After breakfast, I’d like to stop somewhere to get another blanket or two. The heat didn’t kick in until a few hours ago. I don’t know how well it’s working.”

  “You might not have a need for blankets, doll. The heat’ll be working just fine tonight.”

  “Can you check it out for me?” Shyla asked, pulling the shawl around her shoulders and stepping off the porch. Her attention drew upon Coal, and she stumbled. Jacy steadied her out.

  Gramps, why did you leave me with these two? God, I can barely breathe around them.

  “Thanks. Gotta get used to the rough terrain.”

  He chuckled. “It’ll become very, very familiar in a matter of hours.”

  He ushered her toward the car, keeping one large hand on her lower back. The cold morning breeze wafted through the tall spruce trees, carrying along Jacy’s woodsy cologne. She had an underlying urge to nestle against him, close her eyes, and dream. When she looked over at Coal, the urge turned into a need.

  Coal pushed off the side of the Benz and walked up to them. The determination in his otherwise severe expression squeezed at her chest and made her knees weak. She followed him with her gaze, the forest around her blurring, until he stood in front of her. He combed his fingers through her hair, tipped her face up, and closed his mouth over hers.

  Shyla moaned into his mouth, accepting the fever of his breath and the sure strokes of his tongue just as eagerly as her body pressed into the solidity of his. Jacy stepped up behind her, and his fingers pulled aside her hair. His lips brushed over her neck, sending a wave of pleasurable chills through her. She arched into Coal. He grabbed one side of her waist, holding her to him. Jacy’s hand slid from her back to her rear and squeezed her flesh.

  Shyla gasped, sensation after sinful sensation threatening to overcome her. Coal’s kiss ended, and Jacy nipped the base of her neck before she was left standing sandwiched between both men.

  Propriety lost the battle. This felt too damn good and too damn right.

  These two men aroused her and made her weak and dizzy with pleasure. Two men, whom she barely knew, evoked alien desires inside her spirit.

  “We can nestle all you want, sweetheart. After we discuss more pertinent topics dealing with who you really are and just why your life is in danger,” Coal purred. The back of his knuckles caressed her cheek. Her head fell back on Jacy’s shoulder, and she closed her eyes. Jacy took the open invitation to her throat and drew his tongue along her throbbing jugular. “And why the idea of two men is appealing to an otherwise proper young woman.”

  * * * *

  “Oh, no you don’t. She’s mine first.”

  Jacy pulled back his lip in a silent snarl, snaking an arm around Shyla’s waist and pinning her back to his front.

  Coal traced his lips with his tongue before a satisfied grin teased his mouth. “Let her choose. Maybe if you’re lucky, she’ll ask you to join us. Her mouth is delicious.” Coal’s brows lifted quickly, and he turned back to the awaiting car. “Come on, sweetheart. We’ve got a lot in store for you today.” To Jacy, he telepathically warned, “You don’t want to evoke a challenge with me this early. Your ass’ll lose miserably.”

  Jacy swallowed back the urge to growl. Shyla lifted her head from his shoulder and looked up at him. Her dark waves framed her delicate face. She had all the signs of Jacob Smith as the foundation to her appearance, but a beautiful femininity overrode the worn, wide features of her grandfather. Her stormy gray eyes, misted with lust, locked with his. He couldn’t help but smile at the rosy color in her cheeks, the moist pink lips that parted slightly, and the rush of breaths from her lungs.

  “How does it feel to be here less than a day and already have two men arguing over you?” he murmured, listening to the rapid beat of her heart. He lifted a hand to her face and stroked the cool, smooth flesh of her cheek, waves of hair tangling in his fingers. He could barely wait to see what she would look like in bed. “Aw, babe, I’m loving the way you look at me.”

  “I–I, uh,” Shyla whispered.

  She blinked several times, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth and dropping her gaze to the ground. She scuffed a rock, glanced up at Coal, who waited on the brink of impatience by the car, then stepped away from Jacy. He entwined his fingers between hers, unwilling to give up the warmth of her body and the reaction she provoked within his wolf’s blood. The potent scent of her arousal teased every fiber of his being, taunted him to strip her naked and claim her, but Coal had made a valid point.

  Shyla Smith was a targeted woman, and she had no idea why.

  “Course it’s a valid point. It’s about fucking time you agreed,” Coal snapped. Jacy smiled at his friend as he led Shyla to the Benz. Coal opened the back door for her. Despite Jacob’s assurances that the spirits appointed them both as Shyla’s mates, he couldn’t help the tinge of jealousy that crept up every time her attention lingered on his friend. Claiming this perceived white wolf hung in the balance. He wanted to be her first, but Coal had a way with women and claiming their favor.

  Jacy held Shyla’s hand as she climbed into the backseat. Once she settled and pulled her hand away, he leaned in and made his own lasting impression in the terms of a kiss. He might not have the dark look of Coal, but he knew how to tease a woman to the peak of pleasure.

  Fucking hell, she did taste incredible!

  He kissed her with leisurely strokes, drinking in the lingering flavor of strong coffee and sweetener. Her lips formed perfectly against his, her tongue meeting his in an intimate dance. Des
ire pooled in his cock, making him hard and needy for this woman.

  “Damn, Jacy. Will you quit it? We’ve got things to do. Earning her trust is one of ’em.”

  With a groan, Jacy ended his kiss and straightened out of the car. Shyla didn’t meet his gaze, but rather dabbed her bottom lip with the back of her finger. He didn’t miss the shy grin that touched her mouth behind her hand just before he closed the door.

  “I wasn’t about to let her simmer with your taste on her mouth. Can’t have that,” Jacy said. He winked behind the dark lens of his sunglasses, knowing Coal caught his antic. “It’s about time the roles are reversed. Me first.”

  “Whatever. You know damned well I don’t get first dibs half the time. Get in the car and shut up, got it?” Coal chuckled as he slid behind the wheel.

  Jacy laughed as he rounded the back of the car and settled in the passenger seat. He shot Shyla a smile.

  “You cozy back there or you need some company?”

  “I’m just fine, thank you,” she replied, sidestepping his gaze for the scenery outside the window. “Where’re we going today?”

  “You hungry?” he asked.

  “I think it would be a great idea to fill my belly with good food before you deliver whatever you’ll deliver to me.” She rummaged through her purse, pulled out a pair of sunglasses, and slipped them on her nose. “I’m hoping you’ll let me see the town a bit.”

  “I think we can do that, right, Coal?”

  “I can think of some very scenic things to do.”

  Chapter Three

  Shyla rode the waves of pure heaven as she meandered down the sidewalk, stopping to glance in store windows every few feet. This town of Hood River might be rustic and simple, but the breeze blew crisp and clean, the sunshine spread wings that made the cold manageable, and everywhere she turned resonated in quaintness. As where New York might be densely populated and bustling all day long with little elbow room, this place enveloped her in a cozy welcome regardless how few and far between strollers might be.