Soon, his human assured. Give her time. She's almost ready.
Rafe huffed again. She had been ready for years, and he knew it. Her wolf knew it, too. Her human remained the stubborn one, though. Just like a human. Silly.
Rafe ignored his human's quiet snort of laughter. He watched the beautiful, sleek gray wolf dart out of sight behind the rough edges of another black boulder. Flicking his dark-tipped ears back and forth in a quick check for real intruders and finding it still clear, he leapt to his massive paws and jumped from the giant block of sandstone onto the soft ground below. The faintest whump sounded from his landing, but he was off and trotting across the ground so quickly he almost didn't hear it himself. He could scent Sara ahead of him. She drew him to her like the irresistible catch she was.
The volcanic boulders, carried off millennia ago (Rafe chuffed the wolfish equivalent of laughter deep inside at his human's mental eye roll) by ancient waters from the mountain lounging to the south, posed a simple maze as Rafe tracked Sara's movements. She trotted now, her prints wider apart in the ruddy flush of sand that easily depressed beneath his stride. Now and then he lost her trail and had to pause and check the breeze. Clever. She must be leaping to and from boulders on occasion in her attempt to elude him. She was a smart one. He'd always liked that about her.
Rafe inhaled deeply, pulling her scent to him. His.
He picked up his pace, following the quick, saucy flight of the wolf ahead. He knew exactly where she headed, and he had a plan for attack.
Sara lengthened her stride bit by bit until she was moving twice as fast as earlier. But still he kept pace behind her, several lengths back. Her fur skittered with the knowledge that he followed. Tracking her.
Good. Everything flowed along according to her plan. Rafe thought she was just a flighty wolf, a minor member of the pack. He saw her as a wolf he once toyed with and now had to deal with on patrol. For months. Well, she was showing him, wasn't she? She was clever, and fast, and smarter than anyone thought. The whole pack thought Sara was light-hearted, just an easygoing wolf always up for play, to have fun, to take life lightly. Not true. She knew her job, and she did it well.
Of course, her human thought in a confusing whirl of reassurance and slight doubt. Sara faltered once before finding her pace again. She could do this. She could show that big wolf back there she was nothing to mess with. She was a good partner on patrol, and right now she proved that.
If only she wasn't quite so aware of him. His presence, several hundred feet back, prickled her fur and kept her dancing on her soft pads. She should move faster. Temptation made him more prey than predator, which reversed their roles at the moment. That was good.
The small rolling hills appeared ahead of her, beckoning with their clustered stands of juniper trees and little hollows where she could drop down against the ground to gain the element of surprise. Not that it was easy to surprise Rafe. He was the most solid wolf in the pack, the most fair and unshakeable. Nothing she had ever done took him off guard. He would simply look at her with those beautiful golden eyes and nip at her ear. Treating her like a pup still learning.
Well, except for a year ago, when they behaved more like mates... Sara's human shivered pleasurably from the memories before she shook it off with firm resolve. She would not lose control like that again. This time, she would startle that endlessly focused Rafe and make him realize she was ready to settle into a more mature place within the pack. That had to be why the Alpha put them together on patrol. He knew Rafe would be the only one to seriously question Sara's abilities to focus on the tasks at hand without acting like the silly, young wolf she had been. She had everything to prove to Rafe.
Right now, right here, she would prove it all to him. Right when she leapt on top of that big wolf from her hiding place and scared the piss out of him.
Rafe paused when he lost Sara's scent again. Huh. The slight wind had shifted a few times, being fickle as late spring winds tended. At least the days lengthened considerably, each one brighter than the day before. His human loved the long days. All the chances to be out in the sunlight, traveling the large boundaries of the Black Mesa Pack territory, wandering through with deliberate steps while enjoying his home—that was always good. He had to enjoy it while it lasted.
There! Sara waited ahead, curled into the rocks and sagebrush and blue-berried juniper trees just beyond a little rise. He couldn't see her, but the breeze tossed him her unmistakeable scent, despite the pungent overtones of sage.
Silent, utterly intent, he moved forward. His paws made no sound as they treaded over the earth. He picked up each one as quickly as he'd put it down, flowing over the ground in that seemingly floating way known to all predators and feared by all prey.
Sara would jump out of her own hide when he leapt at her.
Sara held perfectly still. The sharply dimpled rock pressed against her back, digging through her hide and into the skin beneath. Barely breathing, she inhaled as fully and quietly as she could. Rafe was close. Very close. He must be padding directly toward her hiding spot, having caught her scent. He meant to startle her.
Well, he might be good, but she was fast. Faster than anyone in the pack, including Rafe. She’d have the drop on him before he knew what happened.
She flattened herself into the earth even more deeply. Sand and sage tickled at her nose. The tiny, insistent spike of a broken cactus spine nudged into her motionless tail. Whisper-soft, the breeze danced around, delivering its intoxicating jumble of scents. The only one that mattered, however, was Rafe's.
Three...two...one.... Sara's human kept a count that echoed restlessly through her skull. Not a single twitch of tail or flick of ears marred the stillness with which she held herself. She could feel him slinking closer...closer... Just about...now....
A huge cracking noise almost deafened Sara as she and Rafe simultaneously leaped. The fleeting thought that he must have dislodged a boulder as he jumped scampered through her mind while her muscles reacted with instinctive speed to the threat.
Three things happened at once: she spun lightning quick to meet his attack; Rafe's vault through the air met her unexpected sally; their bodies smacked into one another, hard, and they fell into a snarling, tangled heap on the sand.
Shock and something almost like admiration laced through Rafe's growled “Sara!” as they rolled around for a moment. She let a panting grin roll off her bared canines. The element of surprise always startled her opponents, and even super-Rafe was no exception. The dark blond wolf was huge and strong. Even his paws were bigger than Sara's head. But once again, her quick agility saved her.
The scent of desert pine and clean spring air and an ineffable maleness carried to Sara's nose and she flipped around beneath him. There had to be an opening. There! For a second as they rolled together one more time, an impossibly small space appeared between Rafe's dark gold pelt and the coral sands. Sara dove for it, twisting her limbs and head to escape her worthy opponent. A quick scramble and she was on all fours, streaking away about five feet before whirling to face him.
The world tilted for a moment as Rafe processed what had just happened. The clever little wolf had turned beneath him and somehow slipped out from their tangle of legs and fur and play-snapping jaws. He caught a glimpse of her sleek gray body as it darted away.
Canny little wolf. She was more than ready to mate, and with him. Fast, smart, thinking on her feet, able to keep a cool head in the midst of a sly pounce. Better yet, he hadn't realized she knew of his approach until literally the last second, when his opening leap was met by her own springing body. It had so startled him he awkwardly—and uncharacteristically—slammed a paw against a large rock on the way down, sending it crashing to the ground just as his weight had landed on all her softness.
She was a fine wolf. Desire flashed through him. Both Rafe's human and wolf sides had momentarily lost focus of the moment. Sara unerringly chose that unguarded second to slide away from him, leaving him blinking. He quickl
y righted himself and spun toward the direction she had gone. Checking himself mid-whirl, he froze in an almost humorous tableau, one front leg angled up in an incomplete step.
Unmoving, head lifted in an unconsciously proud gesture, Sara stood mere feet from him, her stance firm and solid. No scent of fear tainted her with its acrid stink.
For a long moment, they stood still, both breathing heavily from their exertions. As they stared at one another, Rafe could almost feel the pressure increase. The desire, that drove him, more and more, toward this wolf who still played and bounced around the pack like a pup, who nipped at heels and wore sassy dresses on Friday nights out on the town. This wolf with whom he'd had some of the most mind-shattering, body-loosening, heart-expanding sex ever.
Before, of course, she'd bounced off to play with other members of the pack and clueless human men in town. She hadn't been ready for a mate. He knew she'd felt it, the deep knowledge that they belonged together. He'd seen it in her lazily sated, smiling blue eyes afterward. That was a bare year ago, and she wasn't ready then. He'd let her go, although silently he clenched his jaw every time she'd headed to town with his sister, Lily, and returned to the pack smelling like another male.
It wasn't as if he'd been celibate, either. Until a mating bond was established, there was no need for that in the wolf world, which indulged passions with far less hangups than humans did. Rafe had waited patiently for her to grow up, realize who and what she was, and to accept her own strength and place within the pack. She had no idea what she wanted, and he could never force the knowledge on her. She had to realize it herself, or not.
Now, they stared at one another across a short expanse of soft sands, hard dirt patches, and stubby black rocks. The wind picked up a bit and whipped the enticing scents of the mountains above them. The wolf longed to run up there, wild in the mountains, chasing deer and leaves, tussling with the soft gray she-wolf at his side. Both the wolf and the human longed for her to take a step closer. Just one step to indicate she felt the same pull, the same longing to run and play and be with him.
Sudden moves, however, had never brought Rafe what he wanted. Patience and steadiness served him best. Even so, it was a struggle to stay still before Sara's blue eyes as they pierced him, unwavering as she sized him up. That her eyes remained the same color in either human or wolf form was another unusual aspect about her that fascinated him. She didn't move, although her ruffed back seemed to straighten a bit more. Beta she might be, but she wasn't about to cow down to her patrol partner. Not even in a silly stalking game. One in which Rafe honestly wasn't sure who had won.
Dammit, the human whispered. The wolf longed to whine in agreement. Years of being the responsible eldest, however, held his tongue silent instead. Wait and see.
Sara suddenly stamped the ground with a paw. Nose in the air, all her attention shifted away from Rafe. He immediately turned his head in the same direction to better pull in whatever she had scented. His lip curled as it came to him: rogue wolves.
“I wish we could go after them,” Sara said. The wolf's tongue didn't speak the same way the human's tongue could, but nonverbal communication was always clear. Tension bracketed her entire body.
“Alpha said no.” Rafe's reply was short and undeniable. He shot a sidelong glance at Sara, and she acquiesced immediately. When it was no longer a game, Sara's beta nature always came forth.
“Track, return, report. Let's go.”
Rafe took off at a trot, heading toward the scent of the rogues. They seemed to mock his and Sara's presence, although he knew that was simply his natural distrust of rogues. To live without a pack was—incomprehensible. Particularly to an alpha-to-be such as Rafe. To step onto his pack's territory and demand pack status and mates of their own was an insult. However, Alpha had made his instructions clear: if any rogues were encountered by Black Mesa wolves while out on patrol, they were to be delivered to the pack without a single mar to their coats. If not caught, their last known whereabouts were to be reported.
Sara grumbled under her breath, but she fell into step beside him. Sensing her paws hitting the ground in cadence with his own as they trotted through the boulders and sagebrush, Rafe felt another rush of pleasure. This was how it felt to be with her. Natural and easy.
Now if only she would come to see that, as well.
Chapter 2
Sara paced a few nervous steps outside the doorway leading to the conference room. Her sensitive nose, even in human form, told her all the Pack Guardians were inside, ready for the scheduled meeting for the entire pack. Rafe's scent stood out above them all. As usual.
Why couldn't she just stroll in like it didn't mean anything to her he was in there? She'd been able to do that a few months ago. Even a few weeks ago. But now, after they were placed on patrol together—especially after that playful tussle they'd had yesterday—now, things felt different. She'd almost managed to keep up her cool front yesterday, until that playful tumble. After that, her wolf reminded her in no uncertain terms Rafe was very attractive in all senses.
Just at the thought of him her wolf did a mental roll in her head, belly up, half quivering with anticipation. Yes, her wolf whispered.
It was making Sara half crazy. Proving herself more than capable of pulling her weight with the Pack should be easy. Why did Rafe have to mess it all up now? More to the point, why did her own hormones have to make a shambles of it all?
An abrupt silence on the other side of the door sent a cold wave of dread through her. Damn. The meeting had started and she still wasn't inside. A quick glance and sniff up and down the hallway revealed no one else arriving late. She'd have to slink in, not that it would matter. The Alpha would know she was coming in after the designated time. Late, unreliable. Not quite the image she'd recently been trying to express.
Her wolf sat up, a tinge of anxiety surrounding her at the thought of a displeased Alpha. Sara took a deep breath to settle her nerves, and looked around the hallway again. Despite her dismay at being late, she still could appreciate the place. The Black Mesa Pack den lacked little in terms of comfort, understated elegance, and stellar defense systems. Wide and high-ceilinged, the hallway stretched for a good fifty feet. The gleaming oak floor framed a long runner carpet, understated in design but very sumptuous underfoot. Huge windows set at either end allowed plenty of natural daylight to flood the area, the branches from the aspens and pines outside casting dancing shadows on the ground. Old paintings, of wolves and people and mountains and even a European castle, hung on the walls, made clearly visible by the appropriate light fixtures that shone on them to highlight the colors and masterful strokes. Contemporary Western influences, such as giant elk antler sheds and comfortable leather couches and chairs, somehow managed to perfectly complement the look. The Alpha's mate, Otsana Bardou, had designed the entire place and quietly dictated its nuances over the years. The entire effect was elegant yet comforting, secure yet soothing, and indicated deep pride at the status of the Black Mesa Pack.
Sara took another fortifying breath. Alpha Channing Bardou was a wolf of so many talents and so many years, his age alone cowed Sara, never mind his accomplishments and status. He was a wolf to be reckoned with, yet also a reasonable and fair one who had evolved with the times to lead his pack into being the premier one in the entire western half of the country. Sara always felt honored to be a member.
She hated that she was about to go into an important meeting late. She also hated that, frankly, she was more apprehensive about seeing Rafe than receiving the disapproval of her alpha. Butterflies zipped around her stomach. She shook her head to dispel the image, huffing out the barest of giggles at her wolf's confusion about insects flying around inside them.
At least she and Rafe'd had news to share with the Alpha when they reported in yesterday. They hadn't found the rogues. In fact, after they carefully explored the area, they realized they'd scented only a few of them, and those two wolves had been loping away from them. Their scent headed toward the far
thest southwestern reaches of the pack territory—well past Sleeping Ute Mountain—where the Pack Guardians knew there was no need to follow. Past that was a virtual no-man's land, empty of wolves and most people. The Alpha had taken their information with his usual simple nod of acknowledgement. Nothing about his expression ever clued Sara in to his thoughts on the rogues, or anything else, for that matter. As far as she was concerned, that was just fine. She had enough to worry about herself without wondering what knowledge the Alpha stored in his head.
Steeling herself, Sara pushed open the imposing carved doors that led to the conference room and slipped inside. The Alpha's strong voice carried easily throughout the entire room, which was saying something. The Black Mesa Pack's spacious conference room had an ornate, impressive ceiling as high as the outer hallway's. All the members of the entire pack, nearly forty of them, lounged around the room, sprawled on the floor, draped over couches, leaning against walls, curled up beside one another. Pack standards allowed wolf behavior to hold more sway on the private, secluded pack premises than anywhere else. Nothing about the tableau suggested any sort of disrespect for the tall man who held their rapt attention.
The Alpha never paused his voice, but his eyes flicked to Sara at the doorway. His sharp gaze instantly caused her to lower her own eyes. Her wolf rolled onto her back in an utterly submissive pose, ready for total domination by her mildly displeased alpha.
Sara's thoughts halted, although she kept slinking along the back wall to find a place to semi-hide while listening. Mildly displeased? Channing Bardou's look sent her a succinct message this behavior was not appropriate. But strict censure was not evident from his pose. He should be angrier she was late, that she appeared to not care enough for his pack summons to be there on time, for—
Howl & Growl: A Paranormal Romance Boxed Set Page 11