Claiming the Wolf

by Michele Hauf

  But she couldn’t argue the appearance of her rescuing knight, once again.

  A slash of his talons across the wall cut the concrete block into dust. The werewolf charged the iron bars, gripping them, and they bent.

  The heat on Danni’s legs seared into her veins, and she gasped as her thoughts blacked out.

  Seven

  Danni woke in her apartment, lying on the sofa, a half dressed man standing over her, his gray-blue eyes intense and worried. Relief spread though her like a swig from a whisky bottle. “You got me out.” She pulled Hart down to kiss, but after a mere touch of their mouths he pulled away.

  He paced before her, shaking his fists near his thighs. “I can’t stay. I just wanted to make sure you woke and are okay.”

  “I’m good now I’m home. But your pack—what will they do to you?”

  “They let me escape too easily. I suspect they’ll be tracking me soon enough. I have some clothes in your bedroom.” He marched into the room and called out to her. “I have to go back!”

  Danni sat and smoothed a palm over her forearm, which was tender to touch. The UV lights in the compound had given her a nasty sunburn, and she wondered how long it would take for her superfast healing capabilities to kick in. Didn’t matter right now.

  Hart strode out, tugging on a T-shirt. She grabbed his shirt tail and stopped him before he could touch the doorknob.

  “You can’t go back. They’ll kill you. Then they’ll come after me.”

  “They are not going to touch you ever again. I’ll talk to the principal. I’ll make sure pack Levallois forgets Danni Weber exists.”

  “Even if that was possible, what about you?”

  Hart sighed, heaving out his broad chest. “I’ve been bitten, Danni. In their eyes I don’t belong in the pack anymore.”

  “Then stay here with me,” she pleaded. “Start new.”

  “Doesn’t work that way. The pack needs to have their blood, so to speak. I’ve been slated for banishing.” Taking her hands in his, he kissed the palms of them, nuzzling his face against her warmth. “If I let it happen, then we can be free.”

  “But you mentioned wolfsbane. Won’t that kill you?”

  “Not if I’m lucky.”

  “Hart.” She bracketed his face with her hands and kissed him long and deep. She’d thought to have lost him while surrounded by iron bars in the pack compound. Now they had a second chance. Would that chance be taken away as quickly as they’d earned it? “I need you to return so I can fall in love with you.”

  He took her hand and opened it, palm up, and pressed his palm over hers, their silent language between one another. “I’ll return. I promise.”

  * * *

  Remy Caufield had listened to Hart’s request they forget the female vampire’s transgression against the pack in exchange for his willingly submitting to the banishing. While Hart knew he didn’t have a leg to stand on with that argument—the banishing would occur whether he submitted or not—he hoped a glimmer of compassion resided within Caufield.

  “She did you no harm,” he reminded as the principal paced before him. Hart had been shackled at ankle and wrists the moment he’d stepped onto the compound’s grounds. Silver, wrapped with leather. The thin manacles would contain him without killing him. “She won’t come after the pack. I’ve made sure her tribe drops her. They were the force behind her spying. If anything, tribe Zmaj is the true enemy.”

  “Are you in love with a vampire, Hart?”

  “I, uh...” Didn’t think so. I need you to return so I can fall in love with you. On the other hand, hell yes, he could love her. He’d begun to consider mating with Danni. That was as extreme as it got in the emotional department, and he wasn’t about to turn away from it. “Does it matter? After tonight, Christian Hart does not exist to pack Levallois.”

  “True. I hate losing my best man.”

  Hart shrugged. “Tony is a good guy. He’s loyal, too.”

  “You’ve some integrity, Hart. Talking up your successor while your future lands in the crapper. That’s what I always liked about you. You’ve grown into a fine man—and yet... You seriously crave blood?”

  Hart nodded. “It’s pretty intense.”

  “That disgusts me.”

  As it should. But it no longer disgusted Hart, and that was all that mattered to him.

  “Leave her alone, please?” Hart asked.

  With a nod of his head, Remy silently consented. Then he set the two guard wolves to take Hart to the room where they held the blood games.

  The stone walled room smelled of blood and not in an appealing way that Hart could get behind with his newfound craving. He was unshackled, and when the guard wolves shoved him toward an iron frame riveted into the stone wall, Hart said, “No. I don’t need to be bound.” He gripped the iron bar mounted a foot higher than his head.

  The wolves looked to Remy, as other pack members entered the room. The principal nodded. “Leave him as he wishes. He won’t run.”

  Behind him, Hart heard the pack begin to shift to werewolf form, and he knew he was not allowed that same blessing. No, not a blessing. He must take this in were form. It was one small mercy against the wolfsbane. If he were in werewolf shape, the wolfsbane could prove deadly. In this form? It may cripple him, and would most certainly scar him.

  When the growls and low murmurs of a dozen pack wolves loomed behind him, Hart squeezed the iron bar hard and centered his thoughts on the one thing he wanted most—Danni. Then he abruptly blocked her from his mind. The last thing he wanted to associate with banishing was the soft and lovely woman who had stolen his heart.

  “Begin!” Remy commanded.

  The first set of talons slashed Hart’s back, carving into his flesh and nicking bone in the process. The wolfsbane the wolves would carefully dip their talon tips into burned like acid. He grit his molars and growled, fighting to contain a yell. Nothing in his life had hurt worse.

  The second wolf stepped forward to deliver another knee-bending blow. Hart huffed and clutched the iron bar so hard, it bent. Another, and another. By the ninth talon, his blood spilled down his back and soaked his jeans. The wolfsbane felt like fire from Hell.

  The final wolf, the pack principal, stepped beside Hart. Huffing and panting, Hart lifted his head proudly and met his former leader’s gold, wolfish eyes with his own. Caufield slashed his talons across the back of Hart’s head, forward over his ear and neck, and drew it out through his cheek.

  Releasing the bent iron bar, Hart fell to his knees and caught his palms on the floor puddled with his blood.

  * * *

  The day after Danni had been rescued from the pack compound by Hart, she paced the floor of her apartment before the patio doors. Outside rain pummeled the city, and she was thankful for the lack of sun—and she was not. Rain reminded her of making love with Hart. Would they ever be so close again? It had been over twenty-four hours since he left her for his banishment.

  “Where is he? He doesn’t answer his phone. They’ve killed him, I know it.”

  Clutching her fists to her chest, she felt what must have been the thousandth tear fall across her cheek and regretted ever wishing she could cry. She needed to know Hart was alive. If he didn’t ever want to see her again, she would have to deal, but she couldn’t begin to get over him until she knew he was safe.

  She couldn’t return to the compound. That would be suicide. She couldn’t contact her tribe because Hart had told her t
o stay away from them. He’d made it clear to Slater he was to stay away from her and David. Yet her new freedom came at an insurmountable price.

  Over and over this morning, she’d gone through possible scenarios for banishing. It could not be good, certainly not pleasant, and definitely painful.

  “Oh, Hart, please be safe.”

  At the very least, alive. The pack wouldn’t kill him for something she had done to him, would they?

  They kidnapped vampires and forced them to fight to the death, of course they would be sanguine about killing one of their own.

  On the kitchen counter sat a mixing bowl and inside of it, two uncracked eggs. She’d briefly considered going through the mundane motions that usually made her feel better. But really? Not this time. Brownies were not going to save her man.

  A knock on the door set the hairs on her body straight up. Danni ran and opened it to find Hart standing there, his grin slightly crooked, but he was smiling.

  She leaped into his arms, wrapping her legs about his waist and hugged him tightly. Cheek pressed against his neck he felt warm and inviting. Alive.

  He walked inside and closed the door behind them, leaning against the wall, not letting her go, and whispering gentle things like, “I missed you. I’m here. I’m never going to leave.”

  “I thought you were dead.” She clung, unwilling to let go for fear he might slip away. “You didn’t answer your phone.”

  “I needed to...heal a bit before I saw you. Danni, look at me.” He set her on the back of the sofa, and only then did she finally look at his face.

  His bright gray-blue eyes fixed to hers. His mouth was that soft thickness she loved to feel pressed against her mouth, her skin. But there, at the corner of his lips, the skin tugged toward his cheek. And she traced the thick, angry scar slashed from mouth, across his cheek, over his ear, and cutting through the side of his skull. Another dashed his jaw, red and vulgar in its thickness. And at his neck, yet another.

  “Ohmygod. What did they do to you?”

  “I’ll heal, but the scars will remain. Wolfsbane,” he said. “It’s not a werewolf’s favorite herb.”

  “But—so cruel.” Her fingers shook as she reached for the scar at his jaw. He did not flinch from her touch. He wanted her to look at him, to see him now. Changed. Altered. Because of her. “Doesn’t change things between us,” she said bravely.

  Did it? No. He was a handsome man. The scars? They were ugly. Angry. But they proved his honor. He had purposefully returned to the pack, knowing this would be his fate, because he’d wanted a clean ending between them, and he’d wanted to ensure her safety.

  “Does this mean I get to fall in love with you now?” she asked.

  He bowed his head and looked aside. “Can you love this, Danni? The scars aren’t going away. I’m forever marked.”

  “I think it’s too late to ask that.” She stood and kissed him. Their bodies melded together, finding a place they’d created with their heartbeats. “Because I already love you. And I think you’ve taken these awful marks because you love me.”

  “Hell yes, Danni. I love you.”

  “Then tell me we can be together.”

  “Always. You really love me?”

  “Yes.” She kissed the scar on his cheek. “Oh, how can I heal you?”

  “Your touch makes the pain go away. Your love will keep it away. God, Danni, I want you to be my mate.”

  “That means me and you, forever?”

  “Yes. Is that something you can imagine? The two of us? Maybe get a cottage out in the country. I’ve been craving the fresh air and some land to let my wolf out to roam.”

  “Sounds amazing. Can I plant a garden?”

  “You like to grow things?”

  “My mortal family owns a nursery. I’ve always wanted to do the same. It’s a missed dream, you might say.”

  “Yes, to a garden.”

  “And yes, to letting the werewolf run wild.” She kissed him and had to caution herself to do so gently because she sensed his wounds did still pain him, no matter what he said. “So if I’m your mate...” She knew how it worked with werewolves, and mating was serious bonding stuff. “Does that mean...?”

  “You’d have to let my werewolf shag you, which could get hairy and a bit, well...vigorous. More so than usual. Still interested?”

  She licked her lips and tilted her head, gazing into his gorgeous, giving eyes. Placing her palm flat against his palm, she said, “Sounds like a dare I can’t resist.”

  * * *

  A month later, Danni strode down the gravel road, which curved before the little château Hart had found for them on the outskirts of Toulouse. They were a long way from Paris, and she didn’t miss the big city at all. An old vineyard fronted the property, and Hart had big plans to resurrect the vines and learn about crafting wine. Though the snow had begun to fall, Danni was already dreaming about the garden she would plant behind the château come spring. She’d plant flowers to attract butterflies and bees, and vegetables so she could cook stews and tarts for her lover.

  She found she had but to drink from a mortal only every other week, so a quick trip into the city was required, but she also got some grocery shopping done at the same time. Domesticity felt marvelous, and her future looked incredible. While she mourned her mortal family, she had decided it best to never see them again. David might accept her truth, but she didn’t want to burden him with that. The Webers would believe her dead, a girl gone missing while on vacation in Paris, which was going to be tough enough for them all.

  A brown wolf loped across the field toward her, tongue lolling after a long run through the nearby forest. Danni bent to greet the gregarious wolf as it trundled over and licked her cheek. She smoothed her fingers through its coat, noting it had grown thicker for the winter months. He toppled her onto the snowy ground.

  “All right! I surrender. But I don’t have a stick to throw, you silly wolf.

  The wolf tugged at the hem of her shirt, carefully, yet she got the message.

  “You think so, eh?” She sat and brushed the snow from the elbows of her sweater. “It’s getting cold out. How about I meet you out back and we can get busy in the mud room?”

  The wolf barked and took off toward the château.

  And Danni stood to walk back home and rendezvous with her lover, who would be in werewolf form and waiting by the time she reached the château. When shifted into werewolf shape, Hart was half man, half wolf, and horny as hell. Surprisingly, he took her as gently as was possible in that form, and had never once accidently clawed her. They had bonded for life, and Danni couldn’t wait to have his babies.

  Increasing her pace as she neared the house, Danni pulled off her sweater, exposing her bare skin to the chill air. Her nipples tightened. Arousal warmed her skin. She walked through the front door, dropping her sweater, and unbuttoning her jeans as she raced toward the mud room.

  Hart’s howl echoed through the plastered walls of their new home, setting an old iron chandelier to a titter. Licking her lips, Danni slunk into the mudroom, and touched the furred shoulder of her werewolf lover.

  “Just you and me, my big bad wolf.” Her fangs lowered as the wolf turned her around and pushed her against the wall. She’d bite him soon enough.

  And then he would bite her.

  Life could not be more perfect.

  * * * * *

  For more information on Michele’s books stop by michelehauf.com, and to learn
more about the characters in her world, visit clubscarlet.michelehauf.com

  Don’t miss the other sensual, paranormal reads from Harlequin Nocturne Cravings, available at

  www.ebooks.eharlequin.com and wherever ebooks are sold. Titles include:

  The Darkling’s Desire by Lauren Hawkeye

  Her Vampire Lover by Caridad Piñeiro

  A Jaguar’s Kiss by Katie Reus

  Reawakened Passions by Megan Hart

  Incubus Wolf by Bonnie Vanak

  Moonspun by Michele Hauf

  Dark Hunter’s Touch by Jessa Slade

  Forbidden by Fate by Kristin Miller

  The Darkling’s Surrender by Lauren Hawkeye

  Looking for more paranormal romance? The sizzling and spine-chilling books of Harlequin Nocturne are available at www.Harlequin.com or your local bookstore.

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  ISBN: 978-14592-4556-3

  Claiming the Wolf

  Copyright © 2012 by Michele Hauf

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.