Rogue Wolf

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Rogue Wolf Page 9

by Amber Ella Monroe


  "Harder," she screamed.

  He obliged her request, fucking her like a wild animal.

  She loved every second of it. Each stroke felt like Heaven on Earth. The way he leaned down to lick and nibble at the back of her neck drove her to the edge, over it, and back up again. This was sweet torture—the type of torture she never wanted to end.

  When she looked up into the mirror over the sink, she was stunned by the sheer handsomeness of the half man-half beast who looked back at her. The world spun and careened on its axel. Time stopped. The fire of their union spread to her heart. She was both overjoyed and fulfilled.

  His gaze held hers in the mirror. Mine, they screamed.

  "Yours," she declared.

  This time when they came together, the force of it was not only blinding, but deafening. And she thought certain she heard over a dozen hummingbirds buzzing in her ear.

  20

  After catching a ride with Monica into town, Deacon met Garrett Justice at a little bar not too far from the Aspen Valley-Cross City border. Ever since that first night when Deacon had changed into his wolf form since coming back to Aspen Valley, all his wolf wanted to do was roam in wolf form. He didn't have to lug around bags of cash any longer, so he obliged the wolf.

  "What's going on with the Pack down in Tunica?" Garrett asked, grabbing a handful of peanuts from the small bucket in the center of the table and shelling a few before throwing them in his mouth.

  Garrett was one of the Alpha's older brothers. He acted as an Enforcer for the Pack, but word on the street was that Garrett also acted as the Beta.

  "Nothing newsworthy," Deacon replied. "They call themselves the Wild Horseshoe Wolf Pack. They're not even as half as big as the Aspen Valley Pack. I think they like it that way."

  "They certainly keep to themselves, but that's probably why they don't run into these crazy problems like the rest of us."

  "The Alpha over Wild Horseshoe is nearly fifty years old. He's a no nonsense type of guy. Plus they thrive off the casino business rather than the real estate business," Deacon offered.

  "Yeah. Real estate is Dane's thing. He says you've been going around the town paying folks back for all those debts your grandpa racked up."

  Deacon nodded. "My family racked up the debt, and yes…I came back to pay them."

  "Well, you don't owe the Magnus or Justice family any money. No grievances or hard feelings. Everything's good and we hope it stays that way."

  "I didn't exactly leave the Pack on good terms. I'm not pledged and I want to be. I want to rejoin the Aspen Valley Wolf Pack."

  Garrett leaned back in his chair, assessing Deacon carefully from across the table.

  "You're not bringing any heat with you, are you?"

  "No, of course not. I have a record here though—a long list of misdemeanors and arrests from my younger days, but I stayed out of trouble when I left Aspen Valley. I did, however, get into an altercation Friday night with a guy."

  "Judge Evan Marshal II's son, Evan III?"

  Deacon sat up straight and frowned. "How…?"

  "We may be a big community, but word gets around fast. That kid has become a nutcase. I'm embarrassed for Judge Marshal. He's set to step down this year and I'm almost certain he's trying to pave the way for his son somehow. Looks like Evan III has other plans though."

  "I wanted his hands off my mate, so I threw his ass across the club."

  "Yeah, trust me, I get it. You don't need to explain yourself, bro," Garrett said. "About rejoining us, we still hold initiation meetings every full moon. Do you know where the old Justice family home used to be?"

  "Yes, it's not too far from where I'm staying."

  "Dane wants you to be there when the time comes." Garrett held out his hand and they shook on their agreement. "Welcome back to the Pack, Remy," he said. "You're already making a new name for yourself and that's all that matters."

  Deacon smiled, happy that he'd gone ahead with the meeting in the first place. Neither the Alpha nor his brother had cast stones at him. That was a huge relief.

  "Also, Remy, if you've got time, will you do me a favor?" Garrett asked.

  "Anything…" He was kind of flattered that someone of Garrett's stature was asking him a favor.

  "I'm in the market for a new ride. An SUV. Something used. My mate, Autumn, will be driving back and forth with our baby between the new diner and home and all that. I'm buying local, but I was wondering if you can look under the hood before I lay down the cash. I know you've got an eye for that stuff and I could really use some help."

  "Yeah. I'll do it. You can give me a ring anytime. Or you can just stop by my rental. Right now I'm staying on the Landers property in one of the bunkhouses."

  "I'll do that. I appreciate that. You still got that repair shop up there?"

  "Yeah, actually I held onto it but I'm not in business at the moment. The shops a mess." He paused momentarily and then said, "Give me about six months and I should be up and running again."

  "I'll hold you to it. Another beer?"

  They talked for another half hour until Garrett finally mentioned that his mate, Autumn, was expecting him for dinner. Talks of mates and wives made Deacon realize that he wanted that. He would give anything to go home to Monica's smile every evening. One day, if he worked hard enough, he'd have Monica, the farm he'd always dreamed about buying, and a home big enough to make her happy. He wanted to hear her voice again, but he figured she'd be getting ready for bed since she had to be at work early the next morning. He hoped that he hadn't taken too much of her energy, but last night and earlier this morning, he couldn't help himself. He couldn't get enough of her. Even now, he still wanted her. He didn't know if he'd be able to make it to Friday when she planned to spend the entire weekend with him. But he'd just have to.

  After saying goodbye to Garrett, Deacon decided that he'd take a shortcut through Aspen Valley to get back to the mountains. The terrain was harsh for a man, but as a wolf, he could navigate it quicker than taking the normal route.

  What Deacon didn't expect was to be pursued by two madmen with hunting rifles. When active shots rang out in the air, one bullet flew past his ear and the other hit him square in the shoulder. Fire burned down his legs and a sick feeling churned in his gut. The never-ending pain wretched through him, and he knew he was a dead wolf.

  All he could think about was Monica. If he died out here all alone in his wolf form, she'd never forgive him for leaving, even in death. He couldn't die now. He wanted to keep his promise to her. A promise to never leave her. He didn't want to die a rogue. He wanted to live a happy life with his mate.

  But he was in so much pain. He could smell his own blood as it ran down his left shoulder and down his front leg. Yet, he urged his wolf to keep moving, to keep going. His human conscious and wolf mind were confused. All he could do was put one foot in front of the other. By sight and scent, he escaped the gunmen. Thank God, they'd lost track of him.

  With what he calculated to be only an ounce of willpower left within him, his wolf scaled the seven foot fence to reach what he knew to be the Collins mansion. He dragged himself in wolf form up the steps and tried to shift so he could ring the doorbell. It was a lost cause. He was too weak. He used his paws—or maybe it was his hands—to claw at the front door. He must have clawed the door for hours, it seemed.

  The door opened, and he found some strength to rise on all fours, but he didn't expect to see Dr. Collins staring down at him in hospital scrubs, horrified.

  Deacon's wolf body convulsed uncontrollably and transformed into human form. He couldn't stop himself from shifting in front of Monica's dad, even if he wanted to. It was the most painful shift of his entire life.

  "What the…?" Dr. Collins looked on in disbelief. "Son, are you alright?"

  Deacon swayed. His visions became hazy. He thought he saw someone reaching out for him.

  "Dr. Collins…" he panted. "Will you…tell…"

  Dr. Collins was asking him what had happen
ed.

  "Tell Monica…I tried to…I want what's…best for her. I didn't want to leave her. I'm sorry."

  "Remy, is that you?"

  Deacon's head was so heavy all he could managed was a single nod before his knees buckled under him, causing him to slump on the doorstep.

  "No, no…Stay with me…"

  A man was dragging him from the dark and into the light. His scent was strange, but familiar. Almost like Monica. Not quite Monica.

  "Monica…" Deacon rasped.

  "Stay with me, okay? You're gonna be okay. I'm a doctor, remember? I'll help you."

  He must have been fading in and out of consciousness. He couldn't make heads out of tails. The man was tending to his wounds. Pain shot through his body when the bullet lodged in his shoulder came out. The man had plucked it out. Deacon smelled blood again. Lots of it this time. Alcohol was poured over the bullet wound, shocking the fuck out of him. More pain. Immense pressure was applied to the source of his pain.

  "Goddammit, stay awake!"

  "Monica…"

  That was the last thing Deacon said before he passed out cold on the floor in Dr. Collin's foyer.

  21

  "Deacon, I’m here.”

  HIS eyes were heavy, fatigued. Yet his sense of hearing was heightened. The voice belonged to his mate—to Monica—he was certain of it.

  "Deacon…"

  He rolled his head to the left toward the voice and opened his eyes. When he saw Monica, he tried to lift himself up from the bed of downy softness he lay in.

  She stopped him. "Don't try to move." She grabbed a cool, damp towel and applied it to his forehead. "Rest. You'll be fine."

  "Monica…I thought I'd never see you again," he rasped, swallowing to clear his dry throat.

  "I'm here, and I'm so glad you're okay."

  She grabbed a glass of water from the nightstand next to them and brought a straw to his lips.

  He looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings after quenching his thirst. "Where am I?"

  "The guest bedroom next to my room."

  "You didn't have to—"

  "Deacon, please don't try to get up. My dad moved you in here and he told me not to let you leave just yet. He went into town to get you some medicine."

  "Your dad is okay with this?" he asked, confused.

  "Yes."

  "It's Monday, right? You were supposed to work today, weren't you?"

  "It's okay. I have someone covering my shift for me."

  "But—"

  "No buts. You need me now. I don't know if you remember this, but you were shot last night. Dad found you on the doorstep bleeding out. If he hadn't been there, you would have…" She shook her head. "How did this happen?"

  "I guess I took the warnings lightly. Members of the Pack were telling me about the shootings but I didn't know how serious it was until two men came after me with rifles. I didn't even see their faces. All I heard were shots and I bolted. Nothing like this ever happens in Tunica."

  "I'm so sorry. Here." She turned and grabbed a tray. "I have some food for you. Biscuits and fruit. Dad said you'd want red meat but we had none."

  "How does your dad know so much about our kind?"

  "He works in the ER. The Cross City hospital has several shifter doctors on site."

  "That's new. We usually see our own doctors outside of hospital," Deacon said. "Of course, I haven't seen a doctor in ages. I've had broken limbs, several black eyes, and have even broken my nose a couple times, but I've never been shot."

  "I'm sorry that happened to you. You didn't deserve that. Regarding the availability of urgent care for all, a lot has changed over the years," she said, handing him a biscuit and then taking one for himself.

  "It has," he agreed. "Yet, how come we're being gunned down?"

  “They’ll be caught. We didn't know if you wanted to speak with the cops or your Alpha. We wanted to respect your privacy."

  "It's a Pack matter. The cops are already involved. I'll have to report it one way or another." He winced at the soreness raging through his left shoulder. "I think I need to shift again. It's the only thing that will speed up my healing process. I'm bandaged up but my wolf needs to heal as well."

  "My dad will be back soon. He didn't have any pain killers strong enough for you. He says he needs a specific shot formulated for shifters. He said if he gets it to you at least an hour before the shift, it won't be so bad."

  "I'm not afraid of a little pain, but if you insist."

  She propped up the pillows on the headboard and then picked up the bowl of freshly cut fruit. "In the meantime, I'll feed you."

  He grinned. "Sounds good to me."

  "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you downstair. After you dropped me off, I got some research down for the health article I'm writing for the local newspaper. I fell asleep but I had every intention of calling you to see how your meeting with the Alpha's brother went."

  "It went well. I'll be an official Aspen Valley Wolf Pack member again on the next full moon."

  "That's great. Then that means you'll stay," she exclaimed.

  "I knew I would stay before that meeting. My decision was made when I found you here."

  She smiled. "I feel the same. I knew you were supposed to be in my life."

  Monica fed him the last piece of pineapple, which he accepted. He then reached over with his right hand and trailed his fingers down the side of her face. Her need rose again with just that one touch. His lips parted and she knew what he wanted. She bent her head, taking his mouth in a kiss, savoring in the sweetness of the fruit he'd just consumed. It wasn't just his taste that aroused her. Her nostrils filled with the scent of maple and spice. He kissed her thoroughly, a slow gentle declaration of his need for her.

  Monica and Deacon were so caught up in the kiss that they didn't even notice the door to the bedroom being opened. The air around them changed at the same time her dad cleared his throat.

  Monica parted from Deacon and glanced near the doorway to see her dad standing there with a small package.

  "Uh…" her dad mumbled, scratching his head. "I can come back."

  "No, Dad," she told him. "We were just talking and um…having breakfast."

  Her dad came into the room, dropped the package and his keys on the opposite nightstand.

  "How are you feeling?" he asked Deacon.

  "Like I need to shift," Deacon replied.

  "Okay…" Dad chuckled. "I know nothing about that part, but I'm really talking about your shoulder. Let me take a look at it."

  "Dr. Collins, I want to thank you for what you did. I would have bled out if you hadn't opened the door," Deacon exclaimed as he checked the bandages.

  "Oh, it's nothing. This is what I do for a living. Besides, I can't have any friend of Monica suffering needlessly."

  "I can pay you for your time. I know how busy you and Monica are and I'm probably keeping you away from—"

  "No, son, I don't need payment. I'm just glad you're alive. Now, I may be a little suspicious of my daughter's friends when I first meet them, but I'm not an asshole. But I can be an asshole when it comes to my daughter's safety."

  "Dad…" Monica warned.

  "Let me finish, Monica." Dad held up his hand. "I knew what you were from the moment I laid eyes on you, son. I was a little taken back at first, but I need you to understand that I condone none of what happened to you last night. There are some crazy things going on in this town that I hope the people we voted in place to protect us are getting to the bottom of this. This should have never happened to you or any of the shifters already found dead because of the shootings going on around here."

  "I understand. Just know that I would never put your daughter's life in jeopardy. I would give up my own life for hers. She's very special to me."

  Her Dad looked back and forth between her and Deacon.

  "You didn't sleep here the other night, did you?" Dad asked her.

  She sighed, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

&
nbsp; "I was working an extra shift Saturday night, but don't you think I know when you don't enter the home at a certain time?” Dad continued.

  "Dad, I was with Deacon. I don't want to argue and I don't want to hear anything about my agreement with a certain lawyer wannabe asshole who shall not be named," she said.

  "I want you happy, princess," Dad said."Certain things have come to light…but I do want you happy. Let Deacon and I have the room for a moment, will you?"

  Monica hesitated for a moment, but reluctantly rose from Deacon's side. "I'll be downstairs," she said.

  "Oh, and I bought some red meat. Steak. Do you mind throwing a couple on the grill?" Dad mentioned just before Monica left the room. "I'm not sure how you like it Deacon, but I'm a medium rare type of guy."

  "Um…I like it rare. Very rare."

  "Ah…of course," Dad exclaimed.

  "Okay, last time I left you two alone, Deacon left," Monica started.

  "I don't need a reminder, princess. The first time was test. Deacon hid nothing when I grilled him and that's saying something about him."

  "Well then," she said, and left the room.

  22

  "You can call me Wade, if you want."

  It was the first thing Dr. Collins said when he left the room.

  "Wade, I'm sorry we met on shaky grounds the other day," Deacon said.

  "If I hadn't given you a hard time, what kind of father would I be?" Dr. Collins smiled.

  "Now that you understand that I'm not trying to hide who I am and what I am, I need you to know that I'm not trying to come between you and your daughter. I want what's best for her," Deacon said.

  "So do I." Dr. Collins frowned. "But sometimes I'm not always right about what's best for her."

  "What do you mean?"

  Dr. Collins shook his head. "Never mind that. You'll never hear me saying that boy's name again. When I caught wind of why he'd spent the night in a jail cell, I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe it was my daughter who he had assaulted. Thank you for doing what you did."

  "It's what I do. I protect what I cherish," Deacon said.

 

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