Silence of the Wolf

by Terry Spear

  Chapter 26

  As soon as Darien ended the talk, Tom sequestered Elizabeth in his bedroom, and she knew they hadn’t come up here merely to take a wolfish nap.

  She noted he didn’t have antique furniture like in her guest room. Everything was modern. A dark chocolate-brown padded headboard stretched halfway up the wall. A white duvet covered a king-sized bed, and a brown-satin padded bench sat at the foot of the bed. The covers were in disarray, half tossed over the bench and half on the floor.

  “Restless night?” she asked.

  “Woke really late and worried about you, then found you were MIA the next morning.”

  “Ah.” She didn’t want to get into that again. She’d disappeared on him, and she guessed he’d left to look for the rogue wolves after that and didn’t have time to clean up.

  Two large, matching armless chairs were situated one on either side of an entertainment center—wide-screen TV, computer, and stereo. A thick, plush brown carpet made her want to kick off her shoes and roll around on the floor because it looked so cushiony soft.

  She toed off the slipper boots.

  “Are you sure you trust Bjornolf?” Tom asked, closing the door behind them as she looked at the rest of his bedroom and saw one of the pictures she’d taken at the ski slopes framed and sitting on his dresser.

  He cleared his throat. “Jake must have had the picture turned into a print. To remind me to chase you down.”

  She chuckled. “I doubt you needed the reminder.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “As for Bjornolf, yeah, I’d trust him with my life. He’s a retired SEAL, you know. Anna works on ‘projects’ with him. I suspect both of them know lethal moves without even turning into a wolf.”

  Tom laughed, turned on some soft instrumental music, then raised the volume.

  “What’s so funny?”

  Tom pulled off his snow boots, then joined Elizabeth and wrapped his arms around her back. He slowly danced to the music with her. “Peter thought his brother had been involved in illegal operations all this time. He said he caught the two of them sparring in the guest bedroom of his home. We all thought it was a case of mate abuse.”

  She laughed. “I guess they were keeping in shape.”

  “Speaking of keeping in shape…”

  Elizabeth had never danced with a wolf before, and she loved Tom’s moves as he held her close, rubbing his body against hers and claiming her, just as she was claiming him back. “Great dancer.”

  “Hmm,” Tom responded, his hands slipping all over her back, sliding the soft wool sweater against her skin. His warm hands slid up her sweater, his fingers pausing at her bra. He smiled. “Did you find it in my room?”

  “I had to look a bit. It was tucked away in your underwear drawer between two pairs of black briefs.”

  “See how I even share my drawers with you?”

  She smiled and rubbed her body against his, loving the feel of his cock coming to life, firm, ready. “I love how much you share every bit of you with me.”

  That earned her a smile. He leaned down and nuzzled his face against her cheek, lower until he could kiss her neck, her throat, her breasts. At the same time, his fingers unfastened her bra at the back. When he straightened, she pressed harder against his erection, wanting to feel his firmness, touch him, caress him, take him inside her.

  He groaned as she moved her pelvis, grinding against him.

  He slid his hands around to her waist, traveling up her skin and making her tremble with expectation. She loved how he responded, his heated gaze, his hot touch. His fingertips traced the wire cups of her bra, but then he pushed it out of his way and cupped her breasts with his hands, the sweater still covering her.

  His mouth was on hers, not soft and gentle and refined, but taking what he wanted—knowing she craved the same. The lust driving them both. The need to conquer and possess, to fulfill the hunger that chased them.

  Her sex was already aching for completion, and she was wet for him. His eyes were filled with desire, his lips insistent, his tongue stroking the inside of her mouth. She savored the feel, sucked on his tongue, and made the big gray wolf groan with entreaty. And she loved it.

  His hands slid around her back again, lower and lower until they were on her buttocks. He pulled her hard against him, making her feel his feral need for her.

  She didn’t hear the music any longer. Their feet were still walking to the beat on the soft plush carpet, but she concentrated on how he made her body turn into a burning furnace. He unzipped her pants, plunged his hand into her panties, and felt the wetness between her legs, then smiled.

  An all-knowing, smug smile. He might make her wet, but she made him rock hard. She slid her hand over his jeans and the rigid bulge eager for release and stroked, telling him she wanted him. His kisses grew more urgent, his hands tightening his hold on her ass. He was about ready to strip, forget the foreplay, and get on with business.

  She thought she heard him mutter how hot she was, and then he pulled off her sweater and her bra. He tossed them to the floor, then yanked off his own sweater and shirt. She loved the way he made her feel desirable, wanted, needed. Growling low with a little bit of a purr, she ran her fingers over his chest. She felt his sleek, warm, hard muscles under the palms of her hands and saw how his nipples pebbled.

  She hadn’t been able to see him like this, hadn’t been up this close to touch him—every bit of him—without being buried beneath blankets and covers to keep the chill out. The room was comfortably warm, though she was burning up as she skimmed her hand over his skin, feeling his muscles, smelling his hot, musky all-man scent. He encouraged her to take her pleasure first, experiencing how her hands slid over him while she cherished him.

  That didn’t last long as his mouth drew down to hers, slanting over her lips, his hands now cupping her naked breasts. His tongue licked the seam of her mouth as she attempted to unzip his pants. He slid his tongue into her mouth again. She concentrated on pulling his jeans away from his lean hips, trying to enjoy the way he invaded her with his tongue and sent her senses reeling.

  She struggled, tugging at his jeans, wanting to stroke that enticing part of him that his pants and boxers still held hostage.

  She managed to jerk his jeans down to his knees and reached for his boxers. His alpha wolf came into play. He kicked off his jeans and quickly dispensed with hers. Her panties and his boxers hit the floor next.

  Naked, skin to skin, he continued to slow dance with her, his hot, hard body rubbing against hers. She was in heaven as she raised her arms and looped them around his neck, letting her breasts skim his chest, her hips swaying, her mound rubbing against his full-blown erection.

  His darkened brown eyes were clouded with lust as he stroked her back with his large hands, sliding them down until he cupped her buttocks again. She felt his whole body tense right before he lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around him. He slowly carried her to the bed, kissing her, loving her.

  He was a wolf dream come true.

  He set her on the bed, but she didn’t release him, her legs wrapped around his hips, and he grinned. More than one way to do this, she thought his expression said.

  He slipped his hand down to her wet sex and stroked her nub until she released him. She moved onto the mattress, wanting him on the bed with her. Like a predator wolf approaching his mate, ready for a joining, he prowled across the mattress to reach her. His fingers renewed their strokes, his free hand pushing her legs apart.

  He was so beautifully naked, the light hair trailing down his torso to his pubic hair, his cock jutting out so proud and large and eager to please and take pleasure.

  She dug her heels into the mattress, enraptured with the way he was making her feel—the joy, the headiness, her body thrumming with pleasure.

  She let out a small cry as the fireworks showered her with hot, war
m gratification. He wasn’t done as he lifted her legs over his shoulders and separated her with his fingers, stroking as she writhed to his touch, waves of renewed carnal need washing over her.

  He replaced his fingers with his cock, burying it deep, seating himself. He pulled out and thrust again. He pounded against her ass, his muscles straining as he worked up the heat, their breathing heavy, the smell of wolfish sex permeating the air.

  “Beautiful,” he managed to say, his voice ragged as he climaxed, the tremors of her own orgasm clutching at him.

  He sank down on top of her, his face buried between her breasts, his breath warm against her skin, his tongue licking the valley. “Salty and sweet.” After a moment, he added, “And spicy.”

  ***

  Sometime later, Elizabeth woke in Tom’s arms in his bed, the covers over them, and she realized they’d fallen asleep for a couple of hours. “Do you think your cousins might be changing their minds about joining the pack?”

  “Maybe. They would be mad at all of us—Jake and me, Darien, and Lelandi. Probably Peter, too, since he took their father’s place as sheriff. I don’t know if they’re out looking for CJ, or if that’s just CJ’s wishful thinking. I’m worried that they might have turned tail and given up on trying to come back to the pack.”

  “You think they’d leave CJ?”

  “I wouldn’t want to think so, but I wouldn’t think Eric would entertain notions of helping kidnappers just to get back at us, either.”

  “Too bad I wasn’t able to track them while we were in the forest.”

  He pulled her tighter into his arms. “Best little tracker in Colorado.”

  “And Oklahoma and Texas. Not that I’m bragging,” she said with a smile.

  He kissed her forehead and smiled a little, but a crease marred his brow.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I wonder what evidence North could have of your uncle’s involvement in your parents’ murders.”

  “He wouldn’t tell me. I think he wanted to see me.”

  Tom scowled at that. “I suspect to convince you to stay with him. What triggered the killings? Do you have any idea?”

  She took a deep breath and let it out. “My parents were getting ready to celebrate my sixteenth birthday.” She gave a soft snort. “Sweet sixteen and I didn’t have any friends around my age to celebrate it. You know what my father gave me? I mean, it was sweet, but not exactly what I had expected.”

  Tom caressed her arm and shook his head.

  “A boot knife. To protect myself with. Like I said, it was sweet of him to worry about me, probably because of the trouble I’d had with wolves who didn’t like what I was. But still, I was thinking more of a mare. A boot knife? I was away from home both days when they were murdered. If I had been there either day…” She shuddered.

  Tom rubbed her arm. “Your father wasn’t home when your mother was murdered?”

  “No. He had broken some horses for someone, and he went to deliver them. I was at the mercantile that day, picking up some goods my mother wanted. I—I returned home after my father did and found him in a state. He was just numb. I’ve never seen him so… shocked. He wouldn’t let me see her body. He buried her alone. I had… a sense that he knew who had done it. I asked, but he just shook his head.

  “Two days later, he sent me into town for some supplies. I—I didn’t want to go. He insisted I take the boot knife with me. He was acting really strange. I wanted him to go with me. But he said he needed me to do it. I begged him to go with me. I was scared. I didn’t take the knife with me. I hadn’t wanted it. When I was halfway to town, I almost turned around. I had like a sixth sense something bad would happen.”

  “He was meeting someone. Meeting the person he suspected killed your mother. Family,” Tom guessed.

  “I think so. He didn’t want to tell me. I believe he confronted whoever it was, and that person got the best of him. He was stabbed to death. It was awful. Maybe that’s what had happened to my mother and that’s why my dad didn’t want me to see her. I was terrified. I was certain whoever had done it would want me dead next. North arrived and—”

  “North?”

  “Yeah, he was excited and said he had something for my birthday, but he needed to speak to my dad first. Then he must have seen my tears and how distraught I was. Once he learned my dad had been murdered, North never said anything more about my birthday and the two of us quickly buried my dad. He helped me pack, and I planned to take the remaining five horses and sell them. I still own the property, but I used the money from the sale of the horses to buy a small house out of the pack territory and lived there for a while. Then I moved to Oklahoma, close to my mother’s family, and from there to Texas.”

  “Okay, back up a moment,” Tom said. “You didn’t smell who killed your mother? Back then no one would have had hunter’s spray to use.”

  “My dad wouldn’t tell me where he’d found her. I was caught in a torrential downpour before I made it home with the goods for my mother. My dad had been outside, probably trying to calm one of our more skittish mares. I—I did smell a hint of what I thought might have been my uncle and Sefton’s scents. But I couldn’t be sure. Not with the way the rains had washed everything away. Since I suspected they had a hand in it, I thought I might have imagined it.”

  “So nothing triggered your mother’s killing that you knew of? If your father confronted the killer, that would explain his death.”

  “The only thing I remember that seemed significant was that I’d had my birthday.”

  “And the boot knife you got.”

  She thought about that for a moment. “I wasn’t really grateful… I mean, I tried to show how much I loved it. But it was a stretch. I wanted a mare. Once I found my dad…” She shook her head. “I didn’t appreciate why he wanted me to have it until I had to leave and I wanted to have it for protection. Only I couldn’t find it. Dad had another. I took his and the rifle he owned, and North gave me his boot knife. I didn’t think I needed another, but he insisted.”

  “The one your father gave you—was it new? Or something passed down through the family?”

  “Passed down from my father’s grandfather. It had a lovely bone handle, but still…”

  “You wanted a horse.”

  She nodded, feeling guilty about it still. “I was in such a rush to leave and so distraught that I didn’t think anything of it. I just wanted to get weapons, some clothes, food, the horses, and leave.”

  “Do you think the killer had it? Used it?”

  Elizabeth closed her eyes. She didn’t want to think that her father giving her his treasured family heirloom had resulted in her mother’s and father’s murders.

  “Would either your half brother or uncle have known that your father gave it to you?”

  “They might have talked about it. I could see my uncle being upset that my father, who was the first born of the two, had gotten it from their father and then passed it down to me instead of Sefton. Uncle Quinton… might have even asked my father when he would give it to Sefton.”

  Tom kissed her cheek. “I can’t imagine how hard that would have been for you.” Tom took a deep breath. “I need to discuss something else with you, though. Jake said you interviewed him for a story. He didn’t tell me right away, afraid I’d be upset you’d talked with him at length and hadn’t said a word to me before you left.”

  She snuggled against him. “I did conduct an interview with him early that morning, all about his photography. He left to be with his wife. Darien and Lelandi came downstairs for breakfast. Jake’s article won’t be published until next week.”

  “We didn’t know that.”

  Elizabeth barely breathed. Had Tom and Jake been looking for her article and come across the one she had written about coyotes and wolves? She hadn’t wanted them to read the article. Sure it was available online, but s
he hadn’t thought they would have looked for Jake’s interview already and found her other article.

  Tom stroked her hair. “Gray wolves came first.”

  She thought she heard a hint of amusement in his tone of voice and looked up at him. He gave her a smug smile, as though he was delighted to learn that he and his gray wolves had been right.

  Her stomach tightening, she worried how Lelandi would view it. “You won’t tell Lelandi, will you?”

  “She found the article first.”

  Her heart sinking, Elizabeth groaned. “I never meant for her to learn of it. I’m so sorry that she saw what I’d written.”

  “Don’t be, Elizabeth. She says that makes the two of you even more like sisters. She’s very happy for that.”

  Elizabeth took a deep, grateful breath. The reason she had made the trip to Silver Town in the first place was to make things right concerning her rotten uncle, and she had ended up finding a home, a pack, and a mate who gave her a whole new outlook on her kind.

  Not that they didn’t still have real problems.

  Chapter 27

  Early the next morning, the bitter cold and north-chilled breeze stirred up the snow, creating a white mist-like world as Minx, Cody, and Anthony trudged along in their snowshoes to reach Mr. Winston’s house out in the country. Like the others in the pack, they were homeschooled. Some of the pack members had better teaching skills than others, and Mr. Winston was the best calculus teacher anyone could want.

  “You know our parents won’t be happy with us if they learn we’re headed out this far when they think we’re skiing at the resort,” Minx said to Cody and Anthony as the two boys hauled a sled carrying groceries—bread, milk, OJ, tuna fish, and a few other items they thought Mr. Winston might need.

  “So we don’t tell them. If old man Winston lets it slip, we’ll at least have done the deed, and what would they say about it then?” Cody asked, his jester ski hat jingling with every step he took. “It’ll be too late.”