They patrolled the perimeter of the house, looking for any clue that would give the wolf away. If he posed a threat, two Elites would be no match for a lone wolf.
“Sorry, we don’t feed the wildlife.”
A human was sitting on the bottom step that led to a wrap-around deck. Why hadn’t they spotted him there? Since he showed no signs of fear when faced with two overgrown wild cats, he had to be a shifter himself.
Cade was the first to shed his fur. “We’re on to you,” he warned.
“Wrong guy,” said Wesley after shifting out of his panther form. He stretched out his arms, adjusting to two legs after such a long run.
“Royal Elite in this neck of the woods? Never thought I’d see the day when one of you’d come slumming.”
It was another wolf with hatred for the queen. It only equaled another name on Wesley’s growing list of suspects.
“How do you know who we are?” asked Cade.
The wolf tilted his head and cocked a brow. “You both have the Elite mark. Surely you wouldn’t tattoo your body with the royal insignia without approval. It would mean certain death.”
“You think you’re smart, eh? What else do you know?”
“I know I should be one of the males in the royal palace, but since your lovely princesses couldn’t keep their legs shut, I’m left cold and dry.”
A lot of males lost out on the chance to mate a princess. Although the queen had selected mates for all three she-wolves, the only official suitor to get lucky was Alexander. He had to stick around for five lonely years to get his chance with Delia. The rest were left with nothing for all their sacrificing.
This wolf probably spent years in grueling training. Preparing for the chance to be a royal suitor was only second to the Royale Elite training in its difficulty. Did his fruitless sacrifice drive him to want to commit murder? “You must be pretty pissed then—enough to want revenge on the palace? Or the princesses?”
The male narrowed his eyes. “I never said anything about revenge. It is what it is. Anyway, I’ve moved on and found my true mate. Sometimes life is like that.”
Wesley took in everything the wolf said. He refused to believe a word. Trust had to be earned, not given away. These wolves lived off the grid because they didn’t want to follow the rules. “Where’s your mate then?”
“She’s none of your concern.” His tone took on a deeper octave, one of warning. It was commonplace for shifters to be overly protective of their females, so Wesley wasn’t fazed by the implied threat.
“If you have a mate, then why is another male living under your roof?” asked Wesley.
He knew Marco had holed up in the waterfront cottage. His scent was everywhere—distractingly intermingled with the human female’s sweet fragrance.
“There something wrong with sharing a house? I’ve had a roommate long before the princesses jumped ship. Has the queen passed a new law I’m not aware of?”
The wolf was snarky and difficult. Usually the shifters in town bent over backwards to comply with their will, an inbred sense of fear for the Elite passing from generation to generation. These two wolves seemed immune to their intimidation. Was it because they lived way out here? Or were they rebels plotting something against the queen?
“No, but I think one of you is hiding something,” he said. “We’ve been looking for a suspect. A wolf. It seems like a coincidence that I find two here, both with grudges, just miles from the palace.”
“Think whatever the fuck you want. I’ve committed no crime.” The wolf stood and walked up the steps to the porch, dismissing them.
Wesley’s panther clawed within him, seriously pissed that some common wolf dared to speak so disrespectfully. It only proved his place as palace guard was losing its reverence, the position becoming dated.
There was no point sticking around. Not without hard proof. Cade shifted along with him, and they began the quick hike through the overgrown forest. A layer of dew already collected on the low-lying foliage, moistening Wesley’s short black fur. He’d only have a few hours rest before his night shift at the palace, so he needed to get back to his room in town.
When they neared the outer edge of the lake, he came to an abrupt stop. Helen’s scent was overpowering, taking control of him like a virus invading his system. He was forced to relive their night together. Wesley could feel her, smell her, and hear the mewling sounds she made when he touched her. He tried to fight it—to think of duty and honor instead of weak emotions like love and desire.
“What now?”
“Go ahead of me. I’ll see you at the bar tomorrow night when I’m off.”
Wesley watched the golden cougar bound into the underbrush. He stood still, listening to everything around him from the wind through the highest leaves in the forest canopy to the wings of the moths passing near his head. He took a deep breath, the earthy scents filling his lungs and energizing his body. Every fiber of his being wanted to follow after Cade and forget the girl. The human girl.
He chalked up his unhealthy obsession to curiosity. He’d never bedded a human, always turned off by the thought of them. They were soft, fragile, and from his experience, intolerable. He could only hope these desperate feelings would pass as quickly as they appeared.
Chapter Five
What am I doing? Seriously, what was I thinking?
Helen scanned the bushes on either side of her with the flashlight. The forest was immeasurably more foreboding in the darkness. The cone-shaped beam of light was her only sense of security. There were curious noises everywhere, keeping her nerves on edge—screeches, rustling, and low growls. She was tempted to turn back around on more than one occasion, but something inside her urged her to keep going. She’d played it safe for too long in her life. It was time to go with her gut.
She’d agree to a dinner date. It would be rude to just not show up—or so she kept telling herself. This was what she really wanted. Helen wanted it all—the impossible dream—love, passion, and a happily ever after to rival all others.
Helen picked up her pace, not willing to stand around and wait for a predator to close in on her. She was already certain she’d seen a wolf near the town earlier. By her estimation, the cabin was only a few more minutes away. She’d passed the curve in the lake, so she had to come across it sooner or later. The evening chill was already creating goosebumps along her arms, and if her heart beat any faster she’d faint on the spot. When Helen saw the distant glow from a window, she nearly sank in relief. It was her beacon in the night.
The final steps toward the house took a herculean effort. This was so unlike her. Good girls didn’t meet up with strange men alone after dark. Targus would probably think she had only one thing on her mind. He’d think she was some depraved pervert looking for a good time.
Oh my god, it’s true.
After last night, she wasn’t sure who she was any more. She’d been ready to give Wesley free reign of her body—a complete stranger. Then new lust bubbled up when she’d found the guy on the ground in front of the hotel. There was a unique connection between her and the two men, but when it occurred a third time, she knew something was wrong with her. How could she have an instant crush on three different men at the same time? She couldn’t blame her desperate attraction on herself. Their bodies were built for pleasure, their fuck-me eyes impossible to ignore. There was even more to it, an odd connection binding her to each man as if they were meant for each other. Her desperate adventure into the forest proved how far she’d go in search of love.
To get here, she had to sneak out of the hotel without rousing the bus driver a few doors down from her. Without a vehicle of her own, she had to start her walk by foot. It was terrifying hiking through the forest at night. She envisioned being dismembered by wolves or pounded into the earth by a grizzly bear. Fortunately for her, she’d made it to her destination in one piece.
Was Targus still expecting her? Had he been joking all along? Her nerves kept firing off, filling her with mount
ing doubts. The dating game was still a mystery to her. Helen hadn’t even played in ages, so she wasn’t sure what move to make. All she could remember was the way Targus made her feel when she was with him—desirable. And there was something pulling her to him besides the fact he was one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen.
After an initial hesitation, she took a deep breath and knocked on the door. She kept reciting what she’d say in her head. It she didn’t, she’d become tongue tied or her shyness would take control and make a fool out of her.
The door wrenched open, giving her a welcome blast of heat. The warm light was inviting, casting out the darkness. “You? What are you doing here?”
She hadn’t prepared for this. But she should have been after spotting him with her binoculars earlier in the day. “I–I came for Targus.”
He narrowed his eyes. It was the guy she’d found asleep on the road in town. The same one she saw on the wraparound porch of the cabin. She’d originally gone hiking in hopes of running into him, not Targus. He cleaned up well, only a five-o-clock shadow covering his jaw.
“Targus? What about him?”
The man in question entered the room with a confident swagger. With a body like his, he could get away with murder. Tonight he was in all black—low-cut jeans and fitted T-shirt. “I didn’t think you’d come tonight. How did you get here?” He motioned for her to enter the rustic home, closing the door firmly behind her. Her breath caught when the lock latched into place.
“I walked.”
“Walked? From town? That’s really not a good idea,” said Targus. “It’s too dangerous for you, Helen. Far too dangerous.”
“Helen?” repeated the other man. “You’re on first name basis now?”
“She’s my dinner date, Marco.” He winked at her while talking. Were they brothers? They were both built like brick houses, tall and fit. They also had similar black tribal tattoos decorating the exposed muscles on their arms.
“You really think that’s a good idea?”
They turned their heads at the same moment, as if directed like marionettes. She felt her cheeks heat as they assessed her. The chill she’d experienced walking the forest now turned into a blazing inferno. She was tempted to start stripping off layers to rid herself of the heat creeping up her collar.
“I’m more than sure,” said Targus. “I’m finally taking your advice to heart.”
“She’s not a princess. Or like us.”
“I know that.” The entire time Targus kept his eyes on her, as if her very presence distracted him. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to feel. Marco expected her to look like a princess? What did he think she was—the jester? How did Targus feel about her?
Tension was thick in the air. “Are you sure now’s a good time?” she asked. Helen didn’t want to be somewhere she wasn’t wanted. “I can leave.”
Targus led her deeper into the house, his hand possessively around her waist. Rather than pulling away, she found herself leaning closer just to get a whiff of his unique musky cologne. It smelled delicious, nearly making her salivate.
There was no harsh overhead lighting, just a few lamps creating a soft, flickering light. It relaxed her, even though she was certain she should feel leery with two strangers in the middle of nowhere. Nobody even knew where she was if she suddenly went missing. Not that anyone would miss her.
“You can’t image how glad I am you showed up. I thought I’d have to go hunting for you at first light.”
She half chuckled, uncertain if he was being serious or not. Helen walked tentatively around the room. The walls were all rough wooden planks, exposed beams running the length of the vaulted ceilings. It felt cozy and inviting, like she’d lived there all her life. She supposed it was paradise compared to her cramped apartment in the city. Her view consisted of the brick wall of the building next door, not a peaceful lake surrounded by forest.
“I really love your place,” she said. Helen ran a finger along the fireplace mantle. This was a home where memories could be made. She could forget her worries and learn what it meant to really breathe. “Do you both live here?” She had to know how they were related, if at all.
“Marco’s like a brother to me. We’ve shared the house for years.”
It was odd that two very eligible bachelors were still single, living way out here on their own. Were they trouble? Maybe they were both playboys, only interested in loving and leaving. Helen didn’t want to be another notch in Targus’s belt. For once, she wanted to be taken seriously.
****
He couldn’t believe she was standing in his living room. When he thought about it, she was the first female to visit their place. If he had his way, she’d also be the last. Targus had paced the wooden floors thin after Helen left in the afternoon. Knowing she was his mate, he worried about her every second she was away from him. But she was a human, so he had to play by a new set of rules. Coming off as overbearing and controlling would push her away, not attract her like a she-wolf.
Targus couldn’t believe his life could change so dramatically within hours. One moment angry with the world and mourning his chance to mate a royal princess, the next solely focused on one female. Nothing mattered but her. He’d heard of the mating call from Marco and others, but he’d never experienced it firsthand.
He wasn’t sure why Marco was giving him a hard time. He was the one pushing him to find a female of his own. Even now, he paced the far corner of the room, his eyes fixated on Helen. It must be her human heritage. She was a forbidden fruit Targus should deny, but how could he ignore fate?
“It’s late to be out in the woods, little one.” Marco was partially hidden in the shadows, the light from the lamp occasionally highlighting the planes of his face. Was he trying to scare Helen away? They often tried to fill tourists with fear and tall tales to keep them away, but Helen was different. He didn’t want her to leave. He regretted his choice to keep her a secret from his friend. He’d been too busy coming to grips with his own feelings.
“I’ll be sure to escort her home myself,” said Targus. “Anyway, didn’t you say something about taking a run?”
His friend needed to fuck off in a hurry. He only had a few hours to impress his woman, and it wouldn’t be easy. Targus would be playing a guessing game, trying to figure out how to please a human while making his intentions clear. He’d run the gauntlet to be a royal suitor, but he had absolutely no training on how to deal with an outsider. Did gifts of flowers and store-bought treats actually prove the virility of human males? In their world, instinct ruled everything, and when there was a question, winning by brute force proved a male’s worth.
“No.” Marco stood his ground, even crossing his arms over his large chest. “I have nowhere else to be.”
“Why don’t you have a seat,” he said to Helen, motioning to the sofa. “I’ll just be a minute.”
Targus stormed over to Marco, grabbed his sleeve at the shoulder and practically shoved him into the kitchen. The swinging doors flapped back into place once they were alone in the small room.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He kept his voice low when he felt like screaming the words. “You’re going to ruin this for me!”
“Ruin what? She’s a fucking human being.”
“And?”
Marco glared at him with enough malice to make most men fold. Not him. “Stay away from her, Targus. She’s forbidden.”
“Since when do you care about following the rules? You’re the one going against the monarchy at every turn.”
“You know damn well why!”
“Whatever. You’re not my alpha or my father, so stay out of my love life.”
He turned to leave the kitchen, but a hand to his shoulder held him back. “Don’t be a fool. Send her home before it’s too late.”
Targus turned fully around, looking his friend in the eyes. If Marco wanted to live out his days lonely and bitter, that was his prerogative. Targus tried to convince him to be ope
n to the possibility of a new mate, but it always fell on deaf ears.
“She’s not just any girl—”
“You can’t mark her! If you reveal yourself to a human, you’ll be outcast or worse. You know our rules.”
“I don’t care, and since when did you?”
He still couldn’t understand why Marco cared so much about human politics all of a sudden. Just last night he’d been plastered at the bar, picking fights and making a fool of himself. The number one task on his to-do list was to piss off the royal family. Although Targus could understand his hatred of humans for their role in his mate’s death, he wouldn’t give up Helen. He’d even risk his place in shifter society.
“We’re better off on our own, Targus. If you care about me at all, you’ll listen. Get rid of her.”
Targus’s head was pounding. He rejoined Helen in the living room, hoping she hadn’t heard anything said in the kitchen. She sat still on the sofa with her hands in her lap. Her long hair fell over one shoulder, her dark eyes looking up with enough innocence to make his heart melt. She was such a slight thing, too fragile for their world. All his protective wolven instincts rushed to the surface.
“How long are you in town for?” he asked, walking around the room. Her scent was invading his body and mind. The mating call, in combination with the growing moon, made his cock uncomfortably hard. He needed to mate. But he had to bide his time. Humans liked to prolong the courtship to an obscenely long period. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her off.
“Four nights.”
Only four nights to court her? His heart raced, his fangs lengthening. He couldn’t let her leave. But from her perspective, there was nothing to keep her here—no love, no attachment, not even a budding connection. There was no way he could win her human heart so quickly.
Forbidden Mate Page 5