“I’m going to ask you one more time.” Alfred circled the chair. “Where is she? I know she was with you, I scented her.”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” Powell stared Alfred eye-to-eye.
If Alfred killed him, he hoped that Olivia had learned enough to fend for herself and not come back to the lunatic. And perhaps Shoshannah had helped her. He could only hope at this point that she was safe.
The punch came swiftly, and his cheek numbed under the blow as his head snapped back.
“I know you had her at your cabin. I scented her there too.” Alfred bent and inched closer to Powell’s face. “She’s mine. And I want her back.”
No way was he giving Olivia back to this monster. Hell, Alfred’s own pack was afraid of him. What kind of leader ruled by fear?
A bad one.
He spat in Alfred’s face. The wolf staggered backward, and a collective gasp rose in the room. The pheromones of anger wafted through the air. Tension grew, and Powell knew the wolves wouldn’t bother keeping him around much longer.
Alfred wiped his face and howled a ragged, enraged human howl. Powell laughed.
“You’ll pay for that!” the wolf screamed, crouching and prepared to lunge. “You bastard! No one gets away with disrespecting me.”
Powell closed his eyes and waited for the blow to come. He’d gotten in a jab of sorts. And Olivia was safe.
The door burst open and a blast of icy air rushed in, sending chills over him. He looked, and silhouetted in the doorway was the most beautiful she-wolf he’d ever seen in his life. His heart swelled and his mouth fell open.
White, with guard hairs tipped in silver sparkles, the wolf practically shimmered like a frozen mirage in front of him. She bared her teeth, fangs long and sharp, her guttural growl setting everyone in the room back a step. She walked into the room, and Alfred remained crouched, ready for combat, though his human form wouldn’t have much of a chance against the she-wolf. She’d tear him to shreds.
He wouldn’t have time to shift before she attacked.
Talk about karma.
She leapt. Powell watched her powerful legs propel her through the air and into Alfred, knocking him onto his back, his head hitting the floor with a pleasing thump and groan. Alfred pushed back against her with his hands, but her bites came fast and strong, and spatters of red dotted her white coat.
“You bitch!” Alfred screeched.
Powell couldn’t take his eyes off the gorgeous white wolf and the way she took charge and dominated Alfred. Her strength seemed magical, super powered.
She tore into his throat, blood gushing from the wound, and a frothy blood-tinged spittle poured from his mouth. She shook him until the life had left his body and he lay limp on the floor. The other wolves stood back, and she panned her head from one to the next, daring any to move.
None did.
“Untie me,” Powell called to the wolves, and one young man rushed over and worked at releasing his bindings. Powell pulled free, rubbing his wrists. “Anyone else want to fight? Or are we going to call this a day?”
Another man lunged toward Powell, and the white wolf snarled, standing between Powell and the others, crouched and ready to leap. After taking a look at Alfred, the man stepped back.
“Anyone?” Powell repeated.
The wolves looked down, none making eye contact. Clearly they were a bunch of scaredy-cats who followed whatever leader they had, without thought or regard to what was going on. Disgust filled Powell and he shook his head.
No matter, this fight was over.
Powell knelt. “Olivia? Is that you?”
The white wolf turned to him, her bright and clear blue eyes like lakes or patches of summer sky. His heart warmed and he hugged her neck.
Epilogue
Olivia panted, her paws still tender from being somewhat new to shifting. She dashed around a thick, heavily scented flower bush and stopped to wait on Powell. He was so slow. Moonlight lit the path almost as well as midday sun, and she glanced up to look at the pocked orb that shone, bright and ever-changing.
She never tired of seeing the stars and moon sitting in the sky like bright pinpoints of hope on a background of darkness. Ever since her victory over Alfred, she’d felt more alive and more independent. It wasn’t her shifting powers or her newfound love for her fated mate that had opened her eyes to life, though those things helped. No, the catalyst for her metamorphosis was overcoming her fear and finding that she was stronger than she could’ve ever imagined.
Nothing could stop her now.
Powell loped up behind her, his bear large and not as graceful as her wolf. She smiled a wolf smile, her tongue lolling.
A nightly run had become part of her and Powell’s bedtime ritual. The snowfall had melted and the forest had greened under spring’s warmer temperatures and sunshine, and every night, her wolf and his bear ran through the forest together, scenting new things and exploring Deep Creek’s grandeur. She imagined that any park visitor would think the sight of a bear and a wolf running together odd, but she didn’t care.
He was her bear.
Her mate, forever.
She raced ahead, stopping on a large boulder and turning to wait. The scent of night jasmine filled the air, and a lone call of a hoot owl sounded from somewhere deep in the glen. The forest, alive with spring’s rush, sang to her in new ways. Though she was only able to see when in wolf form, it was the most wonderful blessing and she was grateful for every moment of vision in the miraculous world of Deep Creek.
Powell caught up to her and leaned against her, panting.
I’m tired. His thoughts were clear to her, though he swore he didn’t hear any of hers. He nuzzled her ear.
She licked his cheek and nodded her head in the direction of the cabin. Tonight, they’d cut the run short. Soon, she’d need to scale back on the running anyway, and she needed to tell him why.
Two new little heartbeats thumped their own cadences inside her. Baby girl cubs due by the second full moon. She lifted her snout and howled with gratitude. A long bay of respect for nature, Deep Creek, and the shifter bond.
Shoshannah had been right.
Love had broken the barrier that had kept her heart blind to her own power, and now that it was unleashed, nothing could stop her and her mate.
* * * * *
To purchase and read more books by Kerry Adrienne, please visit Kerry’s website at kerryadrienne.com.
Author’s Note
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoy Saving His Wolf. Observing the world through the eyes of a blind heroine was a new challenge for me but I enjoyed it. I’ve gained new appreciation for the gift of sight and all the things I take for granted just being able to see.
For returning readers, thank you for joining me in the realm of the Deep Creek shifters again. You may recognize a few references to some of the characters from my Shifter Wars series, including Shoshannah, Griff and Amy, and the Green Glen wolves. This novella is completely stand-alone, however. If anyone wants to learn more about the world of alpha-bear park rangers, sneaky wolves and cocky lions, please check out Shifter Wars, which starts with Waking the Bear.
Love and light,
Kerry
Also available from Kerry Adrienne
and Carina Press
Waking the Bear
Pursuing the Bear
Coming soon from Kerry Adrienne
and Carina Press
Taming the Lion
Claiming the Lioness
Acknowledgments
Many thanks to my editor, Anne Scott. She’s exactly the right amount of patient for neurotic authors and her red pen is on point. I appreciate her professionalism and command of language and her author-whispering skills. I’ve
been so fortunate at Carina Press. I’d also like to thank my agent, Marisa Corvisiero of Corvisiero Literary Agency. She’s always working hard to keep me working. Aside from that, I’m thrilled to call her a friend. Also, many thanks to all my Facebook author friends who kick me off Facebook when I have a deadline, sprint with me when I need it, give me pep talks when I’m sure that my story is the worst and listen to me complain about whatever is bothering me. I only hope that I provide half the support they give to me. Last, thanks to my husband, who has been to every takeout place in Raleigh to pick up dinner and who hasn’t complained (much) about picking up Japanese food at least once a week.
About the Author
USA TODAY bestselling author Kerry Adrienne loves history, science, music and art. She’s a mom to three daughters, many cats and various other small animals, and spends a lot of time feeding everyone. She loves live music and traveling almost anywhere. Music and travel feed her muse like nothing else. She loves driving her Mini Cooper convertible on long, winding roads with loud music playing and no one else around.
In addition to being an author, she’s a college instructor, artist, costumer, bad guitar player and editor.
You can connect with Kerry on her website (kerryadrienne.com), Facebook (Facebook.com/authorkerryadrienne) and Twitter (Twitter.com/kerryadrienne).
For information on upcoming releases, great contests, free books, cat pics and no spam, please sign up for her monthly newsletter here: eepurl.com/1T6PX.
Wolf Summer
By Sionna Fox
When Callie Anders wakes up in her best friend’s bed with a hangover that makes her feel like she’s been hit by a truck—well, it’s because she has been hit by a truck. And turned into a shape-shifting wolf with a raging lust to jump her gorgeous best friend, Sam, the werewolf who bit her. Happy twenty-first birthday.
Sam MacTire couldn’t just leave Callie to die in the road, and there was no time to wait for an ambulance. No time to do anything but what he did: make her a shifter like himself. There would be no more need to hide from her. He’s always loved her, and now...
An irresistible bond has things heating up between them, fast. But outside their private world, all signs point to a setup. Someone wanted Sam to break the sacred laws of the shifter clan and face the horrific consequences. Unless he can convince Callie to testify on his behalf—convince her that he hasn’t betrayed her, lied to her their whole lives—there’s a very good chance that Sam may never see his newfound mate again.
This book is approximately 26,000 words
One-click with confidence. This title is part of the Carina Press Romance Promise: all the romance you’re looking for with an HEA/HFN. It’s a promise!
Carina Press acknowledges the editorial services of Deborah Nemeth
Dedication
For Bear.
Acknowledgments
First, a huge thanks to Angela James and everyone at Carina Press for the opportunity to put this story in your hands. Another major thanks is due to Deb Nemeth for guiding me through the editing process.
To Team Lu, for being the most absurdly supportive set of coworkers anyone has ever had. And for only laughing a little bit when you found out what I was writing.
To Karin, for being the first set of eyes to ever see anything I write and for being my best friend.
To my family, for listening to the stories I’ve been making up since I learned how to talk. Sorry, not sorry.
To Brady, who can’t read this because he’s a dog, for not whining too much while Mama tried to write. And for the times you whined so much and made me go outside with you. You were right, my fuzzy friend, it was a perfect day.
And last, but most important, to my husband, who only kind of batted an eye when I told him I wanted to quit my job and write romance novels. You are my best friend, my partner, my family, my love. I could not have done this without you.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
About the Author
Chapter One
It was a damn near perfect day. Work was slow, but it always was in the dead of summer. Callie spent a quiet hour doodling a cupcake asking for birthday cake money and taped it to the tip jar. It kind of worked. The regulars who filtered in and out were people she’d known her entire life. They were not fooled that she was spending her tips on cake, but left her cash and happy birthdays anyway. Add the handful of mid-week hikers who stopped in and were charmed, and she closed out with enough cash to buy her first legal drink, maybe two.
She had claimed birthday girl privileges to get control of the radio all day, and she was closing by herself, the music up loud, singing along, and doing a shuffling dance while she wiped down the steam wands on the espresso machine. She’d flipped the sign but hadn’t locked the door, and a quiet laugh almost made her jump out of her skin.
“Jesus. Fuck. Goddammit, Sam!” She threw her wet, coffee-ground-flecked rag at her best friend.
He caught it neatly and grinned at her, the jerk, all white teeth behind his full beard and dust-streaked face. He must have been out doing trail maintenance all day. He was covered in dirt from the top of his forestry services hat, down his shirt, to the hem of his standard-issue olive-khaki shorts, and over his muscled calves to his thick wool socks peeking out from his heavy work boots. He was her best friend, but she was still allowed to appreciate that he managed to make that uniform look hot. It was impossible not to notice.
“Stay off my floor with those boots, dude, or I’ll make you mop it.” She straightened to her full height, still several inches shorter than Sam’s six feet, and put her hands on her hips, trying to look fierce.
He raised his hands in surrender and didn’t move from the welcome mat. “Yes, ma’am.” He leaned his butt against the door. She’d have to wipe down the glass again.
“Can you toss me my rag?”
He dangled it from between the tips of his thumb and forefinger. “This one? The one you threw at a potential paying customer? What would Melissa say if she knew you were yelling obscenities while the door was unlocked?”
He tossed it back to her and it landed with a wet plop on the counter after she completely missed catching it. “She’s your aunt, why don’t you ask her?” Callie turned around and dunked the cloth back into the bucket of warm water. The faster she finished the closing chores, the sooner she could get out of there and start celebrating.
“What’s the plan, birthday girl?”
“Finish up here, go home, shower and head out. And you’re going to the store, of course.”
“Of course.”
Even though, according to her birth certificate, Callie had officially been twenty-one for going on eight hours, everyone knew the clerk at the liquor store held a peculiar interpretation of the law that wouldn’t let anyone buy alcohol until the day after their twenty-first birthday. Wayne did not believe in “on or before this date,” only “before.”
“Where do you want to start? Nachos? World Café? Jay’s? The Tavern? We could go to the Public Room.” For a small town, they had an awful lot of bars. Blame it on the après ski crowd.
“Let’s go to Nachos. Five-dollar margaritas are about my speed right now.”
“Like you’re paying for drinks tonight.”
“I’m not letting anyone buy me ten-dollar drinks. Unless they’re huge. Like scorpion bowl huge.”
“And since you can’t get one of those in Pullman, I’ll meet you at Nachos in an hour?”
She flicked her eyes to the clock. She could ma
ke it work. She wouldn’t have time to do anything with her hair or makeup, but it wasn’t like it mattered. She’d known Sam and everyone else in town since kindergarten. Not a one of them would notice or care if she showed up in her underwear. Or they would, but only to make fun of her. Such was life tagging along with Sam and his cousins. She was used to it.
“Sounds like a plan. Now get out so I can finish up.”
Sam left with a clatter of the bells on the door and Callie locked up behind him. No more distractions. She turned up the stereo and finished her chores. When everything in the place had been emptied, wiped down and otherwise cleaned, she counted out the drawer and tucked the money in the safe, left a note for her boss to call the ice guy because they were running low, turned out the lights and left for the next two days. She’d traded working on her birthday proper for two days off in a row, planning ahead for the sure-to-be-epic hangover.
At her apartment, she dropped her shorts and black T-shirt and rushed through a shower, scrubbing the smell of stale coffee off her skin and out of her hair. She wound her wet hair into a bun at the crown of her head, threw on a pair of denim cut-offs and a loose white tank, slipped into her flip-flops, stuffed her wallet and the day’s tips in her pocket, and was out the door to meet Sam exactly an hour after she left the shop.
* * *
Sam was tired when he came off the mountain. Beating back the encroaching forest from the trail network had a way of doing that. Tired was good. Tired meant the restlessness, the need to run, was calmed for another day. They were taught that early. Get tired, get physically exhausted, and the changes would be easier to manage, predict, control. There was no need to be a slave to the magic in their blood, but fuck, if it didn’t feel good to run sometimes.
He dragged himself up the stairs to his room and sat down to unlace his boots. Every time he blinked, he saw Callie wiping down the steam wand, stroking it up and down, with a slight twist at the tip, while she swayed her hips in time with the radio. He scrubbed his hands over his face. Callie Anders wasn’t for him. His father had a way of reminding him of that what felt like once a day. Best friend or no, some secrets he would always have to keep from her, for the good and the safety of them both. Sam would be paired off eventually with someone from their world in the name of alliance or power, and the best he could hope for was that he didn’t actively loathe whoever she was when the day came.
Mated: A Paranormal Romance Shifter Anthology Page 9