by Sarra Cannon
Ah, but I am, the wolf purred.
That part, at least, was true, and she nearly smiled at her secret.
Another part was true, too: Zack could do better than playing second fiddle to the alpha-in-the-wings. A healthy pack needed more than a single leader, and Ty seemed man enough to recognize that. The problem, as far as she saw it, was that Ty and Zack were still the boys they’d once been, subservient to the old alpha. What would it take to shake up the old guard?
She tried shooing the thought away. It was none of her business. For all she knew, Zack didn’t want better. Maybe he didn’t even know what better was.
We can show him, her wolf said, glowing at the memory of his kiss. Because that kiss had been a gamble, a hope, and a promise, all wrapped together. Electrifying and soothing, assuring her there was a place on this Earth for her: a happy, safe, and serene place close to him.
She gave herself an inner shake. A kiss could be a brand, too, marking her as his. That was the danger: an alpha male deciding she belonged to him. She’d already fled that threat twice in her life. She didn’t want to be anybody’s. She wanted—needed—to be her own.
So she did her best to pretend she didn’t miss Zack and concentrated on doing her job without drawing attention to herself. That was the key, especially now that the new moon was sneaking up.
She worked her way down the fence line on the southwest side of the ranch. The midday sun sucked all the life out of the air, and heat pressed down over the landscape like a sheet of lead. The buzz of honest activity that had so captivated her when she’d first arrived on the ranch seemed lackluster today.
Funny the difference one lonely tracker could make.
That much about him, she’d gathered. Zack was a tracker, and not just any tracker, but the best in the whole Four Corners region. She’d learned as much from the sweet old woman everyone called Aunt Jean. Jean seemed to be the unofficial matron of the pack, given that the grizzled old alpha had never taken a mate.
“If it’s on two feet, our Zack can find it,” old Jean had said with a note of maternal pride.
Her wolf’s ears perked at that. What about tracking something on four feet?
If her tail had been out, she’d have given it a lusty swipe.
She slapped a firm hand over her thigh, warning the beast to cool it. But even that couldn’t keep her from imagining a nocturnal chase. She, the quarry, he, the tracker. Now that would be a fun game.
Hunting isn’t a game, she reminded herself, hearing the echo of her grandmother’s words, spoken long ago in what seemed a different lifetime, a different place.
Love isn’t a game, either, her wolf mumbled in reply.
In the distance, the lunch bell sounded, calling the ranch hands to the dining hall, but Rae kept working. Coming in at the tail end of a meal meant less time forcing herself to make polite chitchat. Not that she didn’t like the others; it was just that the company she wanted wasn’t in today.
She bent down to test the lower beam of the fence, and that’s when she heard it: a step behind her, then another.
She whirled and the approaching figure—all six-plus feet of him—threw his hands up like a guilty man expecting an accusation.
She cocked her head at him: Ty, the alpha’s son and heir apparent. She’d only ever seen him from a distance and always exuding that nuclear-power aura that kept everyone at arm’s length. But right now, his eyes were on the ground, his entire demeanor subdued and hesitant.
“Hi,” he murmured, so low she could barely hear.
Her heart beat a little faster in the urge to flee.
“Hi,” she forced herself to say. It came out clipped and hurried. Cold.
His head turned back toward the ranch, and for a second she thought she saw the imposing figure of his father scowling from the shadows. But noon in the desert had a way of playing tricks on the eyes; it was probably just in her head.
Ty stuck his hands in his pockets and kicked at the ground as if maybe he could find a cue card among the pebbles and dirt.
“How you doing?” he asked after a long, quiet minute had passed. “I mean, how are you settling in here?” His gaze was reluctant, the corners of his dark eyes sad.
That was the only thing keeping her from sprinting away. He wasn’t there to harm or demand. He was there to… Why was the second-highest ranked wolf in the pack out here, talking to her? Looking at her like she was a problem he just couldn’t solve?
“Um…fine.”
In truth, she was more than fine. Arizona suited her perfectly, and her heart sang with every whisper of the clean, dry wind. She’d taken a chance in requesting a transfer from Nevada, and it seemed to have paid off. There was nothing she missed about Westend pack, and nothing she could fault with the way Twin Moon pack worked in quiet harmony with the earth.
But she’d be even more fine if Ty left her to her own devices. And finer still if Zack were around. The tracker had a way of either soothing her pulse or making it thump in excitement. Ty, on the other hand, set off all her alarms. Because who he was and what he represented scared her to death. He was a man of power, and power had a way of corrupting even good men.
“Good,” he nodded, but his tone was unenthusiastic, as if he might have preferred for her to have answered differently.
“Good,” she echoed.
God, this was awkward. What did he want? She looked south, avoiding his eyes, and he looked north, avoiding hers.
“You coming to lunch?” he finally asked.
She couldn’t quite say no, but she didn’t want to say yes. “Soon.”
He nodded and stared into the distance with the hollow gaze of a man who’d long since given up on wishes and hopes. So much, she almost ached to see it. Even with everything she’d had to escape in her past—two brutes in Colorado and a suffocating pack in Nevada—she’d never given up hope. Hope to find a place she could call home. A place like this, maybe. If only everyone would just leave her alone.
Ty might have read her mind, because he gave her a grim nod and strode away. Quickly.
She watched him go, wishing it was Zack coming and not a man she had no interest in going. But at least Ty was giving her some space, and she was happy for that.
She checked another three sections of fence before pocketing her hammer and heading back to the heart of the ranch. What had that strange encounter been all about?
She loitered every step of the way, watching a bird sip from the irrigation ditch, then flit into the shade of a palo verde tree. Her feet took her on a long detour to the ranch gate, as they’d done nearly every day. Something about the way the proud, simple structure framed the landscape fascinated her. The solid trunks of two ponderosa pines formed the sides, supporting a long cross-beam high overhead. At the midpoint hung the ranch brand: two circles, overlapping by a third.
Twin Moon Ranch. The name fit the place well.
She stepped to the very threshold of the gate then paused. One step farther and she’d be in the outside world. One step back and she’d be firmly on the ranch. She rocked on the balls of her feet, undecided as always. Was the ranch a prison or a sanctuary? Which way to go?
Forward, she coached herself. Out. That was the way to go. To find her freedom and her destiny, whatever it might be.
Her wolf sniffed. Or free to stumble into the biggest mistake of her life. Your choice. Because our destiny could be right here.
She wavered, and then took a step back, wondering what held her there.
We’re waiting, silly, her wolf said.
Waiting for what?
For Zack to return.
Rae wanted to snort. That’s pathetic.
It’s romantic, the wolf insisted.
If it’s so romantic, why did he even leave?
The wolf just shrugged. Duty.
Ah, the simplicity of a wolf’s mind.
A wolf might be content with that kind of life—waiting at home like a good little mate—but not a woman who could stand o
n her own two feet.
Well, Zack’s not here, and now we have Ty sniffing around. That’s the last thing I need.
The wolf gave a lazy huff. He wasn’t sniffing. He wasn’t interested. Not a whiff of lust on him.
“Thank God.” Rae said that part out loud. But what did he want?
Not us, her wolf shrugged.
Rae had to give the wolf that. Whatever Ty wanted, it clearly wasn’t her, and she could be happy for that. Let the other women heave longing looks him at that mountain of a man. She wasn’t interested. Not in him, at least.
She sighed and glanced at the sky, where a hawk soared in broad circles. There was something magical about watching a fellow hunter at work: wheeling, gliding, choosing exactly the right instant to swoop in toward its prey. She knew what the casual lift of its feathertips meant: today was just another day of many, but tonight… Tonight was the night of the new moon. Even her wolf couldn’t hold back a shiver of anticipation, knowing what that meant. The blackest, deepest night, a night when time stood still but for the slow arc of stars overhead.
A new moon called to her the way a full moon called to the others. Every wolf in every pack had a duty, but Rae—she had a higher calling, one that superseded duty to any one pack.
Tonight, she promised herself. She’d put Zack, Ty, and everyone else out of her mind and remind herself who she was and what she had to do.
To do that, though, she needed more space, because roaming around too close to the others might expose what she was. A glance at the sun, swinging past its zenith, said she’d better get moving soon. She’d have to drive a couple of hours north then set out on foot to find what she sought.
So she headed to the dining hall, gobbled down a quick meal, and jotted a note to leave on the guesthouse bed. Technically, she ought to ask the alpha’s permission before leaving the ranch, but technically, she was headed to a very distant corner of the vast property, so that didn’t quite apply.
Be back soon, the note said.
Soon? Her wolf laughed.
Well, soon sounded more polite than Whenever I damn well please. She stared at the paper, wishing she could write exactly that. Wishing she could find a pack that understood what destiny had intended for her.
She waited until the others had all settled back into work then grabbed her bow and arrows and headed for the battered old Ford she’d driven over from Nevada. She’d scrimped for months to buy it just for the sake of independence and pride. For convenience, too, and the security of an escape pod, should the need arise.
The thrill of car ownership was still there as she hopped in and took off. Driving out the gate was easy once she’d picked up a little mental momentum. She drove three miles down the dirt road, made a sharp left onto the highway, and headed north, where the pull in her bones pointed.
North. That’s where she would find her prey.
Chapter 9
It started well, as every promising hunt should.
Rae drove a couple of hours north and then out on a long, winding side road, letting instinct guide her to her prey. But then the engine started laboring and spouting steam before finally rattling to a stop.
She got out, popped the hood, and studied the smoking engine long enough to conclude she had no idea what to do about it.
Crap.
She lifted her head and looked around. Closed her eyes, sniffed, and found a whiff of hope. Because a broken-down car she could deal with—later. The important thing was, she was close enough to continue on foot. She could sense her quarry out there, not far away. Soon it would be dark, and the hunt would be on.
The hunt. Her lips curled into a smile.
Anvil-shaped clouds rumbled along the horizon like an enemy army in full march, but that hardly mattered. Her quarry’s scent was strong and vibrant—there was no chance she’d lose it. But finding her prey was rarely the issue. The trick was catching it.
It was still daylight, though; a little too early to close in on it just yet. So she pulled a water bottle from the back seat and drank her fill. Let the sun set, let the clouds thunder in, let the car wait. She would be like the hawk wheeling in the sky, biding its time. Her moment would come soon.
She lifted the bottle to her lips, but stopped abruptly and turned. A plume of dust rose from the dirt road, coming her way. The back of her neck prickled in alarm when she heard the thrum of a powerful engine then caught sight of a dark red pickup with tinted windows. Every muscle in her body went stiff.
Trouble. Trouble for sure.
She hurried to her car and pulled her bow out from the open window of the back seat along with a silver-tipped arrow. Just in case. Then she spun back to the road, notching the arrow just as the truck came to a halt and the front door creaked open.
Her fingers stroked the fletching as she waited, prepared to fend off the stranger if necessary. She had several weapons to choose from: words, fangs, or the tip of her arrow. She’d start with one and move on to the others as the situation called for.
It was only when her nose got hold of his scent that she trembled inside. Behind the scent of tobacco, stale beer, and a cheap cologne was the unmistakable peaty musk of a shifter. A wolf shifter, one of her own kind.
A big brute of a man unfolded himself from the car.
“Hello, Sunshine,” he grinned. “It’s been a long time.”
Rae froze. It had been years since anyone used that stupid nickname on her. Her eyes flicked to the car and found the green and white ridgeline of Colorado plates. When they jumped back to the stranger’s face, everything clicked into place.
A cocky man driving a truck with Colorado plates. One with a cleft chin so deep, you could hide a dime in it. One who called her a name she hadn’t heard in ten years.
A nightmare straight out of her past.
“So happy to see me, you’re speechless?” he chuckled.
“Jed.” She nodded, forcing all emotion out of her voice.
It really was him. Or more like an extra-extra-large version of the old Jed. He’d always been big and cocky, and she’d always known he’d grow into a force to be reckoned with. But this? The teenager who’d been growing like a weed had bulked up and added eighty pounds of muscle. His chiseled face was accented by a sharp-edged line of facial hair that followed his jawline from ear to either side of that cleft chin. He stroked it as he looked her up and down, his gaze slow, sure, and hungry.
“Little Sunshine, all grown up,” he murmured. Then his eyes narrowed and he launched right into conversation as if they’d left off ten minutes ago instead of ten years. “I meant what I said, Sunshine. You and me got great things ahead of us.”
He was just as crazy as he’d been back then. Crazier, even. She stepped back and held the bow higher, keeping the arrow notched—for the time being.
“How did you find me?”
He grinned like the devil on a hot, sultry night. “Got a nose for my mate, Sunshine.”
“I’m. Not. Your. Mate.” She broke the words up, so that maybe this time, they would penetrate that thick head.
He only grinned wider, flashing the points of his canines. “You always did like to play.”
Something tickled her lip, but she refused to call it fear. Back to this again? She eyed the empty landscape for some avenue of escape. Jed’s version of play most likely meant violent sex followed by a mating bite that would bond her to him forever. No way. She ordered her racing heart to calm down, her freewheeling mind to think.
Last she had heard, the alpha of North Ridge, her home pack in Colorado, was still Greer Roberts. And last she’d heard, he was still every bit the tyrant she remembered him to be. Had he sent Jed to get her? Unlikely. Jed would have been cast out a few years ago, before he stirred up too much trouble. The less stable packs did that with powerful up-and-comers, lest they challenge the leadership. The young bucks roamed restlessly, causing trouble until they found a place they liked the look of and staged a takeover, challenging the local alpha in a fight to the deat
h.
“You and me, we head back home.” Jed started outlining his plan in a tone more suited to weekend plans than a major power play. “I take out Greer, we rule the pack. What?” He paused, seeing her jaw go slack. “Greer’s a self-centered, greedy ass who has no business being alpha.”
So are you, she nearly pointed out. Did Jed really think he could take on Greer? Greer was a bear of a man. The biggest, baddest alpha she’d ever seen.
But this new version of Jed was pretty damn big and bad. Maybe, just maybe, youth would triumph over experience. Not that North Ridge pack would benefit either way.
“I’m never going back there,” she insisted, scanning the area. Using her bow at close range was a fifty-fifty proposition, but if she shifted into her wolf form, she could outrun him. The question was, had Jed come alone?
“Sure you will,” he nodded, all smiles but for the warning in his eyes.
A second engine sounded in the distance, and her gut sank.
“Friend of yours?” Jed growled, turning to the source.
A sleek black motorcycle came roaring down the road, kicking up a trail of dust that reached toward the ever-darker sky.
Right. She wished she had a friend like this—one with a fast bike and a perfect sense of timing. A friend with an old-fashioned black helmet and biceps that bulged as he roared up and squealed to a stop. A friend with a countenance as fierce as this man’s as he jumped off the bike and tossed the helmet aside.
“Who is this asshole?” Jed jabbed a thumb in the newcomer’s direction.
Rae blinked. “Zack?”
It really was him, though his whole bearing had changed. He was taller, darker, meaner. For a moment, he looked more like a man who could shift into a fire-breathing dragon instead of a wolf. A man ready to fight to the death.
“Who is this asshole?” Zack growled back.
Chapter 10
Zack looked the intruder up and down, slowly taking him in. Then he glanced at Rae. Did she know this ass?
He and the intruder started to circle each other, two paces apart, and Zack made sure as hell to keep Rae behind him the whole time.