Gone with the Wolf

by Kristin Miller

  Emelia’s heart pinched as realization struck her like a thunderclap. This wasn’t her reality…it might as well have been a dream. Drake wanted to show her what it would be like if she lived with him day and in and day out. If this was the life Drake wanted her to see—jet-setting to galas in the city, mansions in Seattle and San Francisco, and spending the night on an elegant yacht—she didn’t fit. She was a middle-class, hardworking bartender. She couldn’t talk to his associates the way he did. She couldn’t drive his Mercedes every day, though she’d started to get used to how that car could get up and go.

  How long would it take before Drake realized she didn’t belong in his world?

  As Emelia put her head on Drake’s chest and scanned the long length of the yacht, she realized she was out of her league. If this was the way Drake lived, she’d never live up to it. She refused to live her life feeling inferior to what Drake had to offer. If they were going to be “bonded”—as he put it—she would need to feel like Drake’s match.

  If Emelia said yes to Drake, would she be marrying the businessman, or the carefree man who flapped around buck-naked in the lake? Would she be marrying the stern, unshakable man who loved extravagances that she couldn’t dream of having, or the man she met in the wine cellar when he could’ve been the janitor or company security? If she was going to consider spending her life with him, Emelia needed more reality and less of…this.

  An idea struck.

  “I think I’d like to let you take me on that date,” she said, as lightning lit the sky.

  Would Drake continue to try to impress her with glitz and glamor or would he be the man she wanted him to be?

  “I have some last-minute business to take care of tomorrow,” he said, “but how does Friday night sound?”

  “I have to work the bar on Friday.”

  “After your shift then?” He didn’t skip a beat.

  What kind of date starts at two in the morning?

  “Okay,” she said, struggling to remember that the date would have to happen on his terms. “Friday night sounds perfect.” As a light on his neighbor’s back porch clicked on, Emelia smiled. “I think your neighbors might be peeping on us.”

  “Only if they have a telescopic lens.” Craning his neck around, Drake peered through the rain. Without warning, he hauled Emelia against him and bent her back into a dance-like dip. “If they’re watching, let’s give them the show of their lives.”

  Emelia’s body surged with heat as Drake possessed her mouth and dragged her to the floor.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Early Friday morning, Raul pushed through the glass door leading to the conference room and took the seat across from Drake. The table was black and glossy, reflecting the blue of Raul’s tie like a streak of lightning across a starless sky.

  “Sorry I’m late, sir,” Raul said. It looked like stress lines had been permanently etched into his face. “I have news on Silas.”

  They had assigned packmates to trail Silas since the night of the gala, but hadn’t heard back. Silas had fled to the airport, where he’d had a private jet on standby. Where he’d taken off to was anyone’s guess.

  One thing Drake knew for certain: until Emelia became his Luminary she was still in Silas’s sights. Killing Emelia before Drake bonded with her would be easy for Silas. There would be no one to answer to but Drake, and little consequence among their pack. Attacking Emelia after they bonded, however, would be a declaration of war. Silas would be seen as threatening their Alpha’s woman, and that wouldn’t be tolerated. If Silas attacked Emelia after they bonded, it’d be suicide.

  “And?” Drake asked.

  “We tracked Silas’s plane to Colorado yesterday afternoon. Twenty packmates disembarked, including Silas. They boarded another private plane, flew north over the Canadian border, then veered west.”

  “They knew we were tailing them,” Drake said, his insides coiling tighter and tighter.

  “Yes, sir.” Raul leaned back in his chair and tapped his pen nervously against the table. “They landed in Vancouver early this morning, then split up to confuse us. Half of his group boarded one plane and departed for London with a final destination of Greece. The other half boarded a second plane that didn’t have a flight plan recorded. We have men stationed in Vancouver questioning traffic controllers for possible intel.”

  “Damn it.” Drake’s insides flared with anger. Clenching his fists, Drake stood and paced in front of the wall made of windows. The sky was smothered with gray clouds that drenched the city in dreary blurs of rain. “Which plane did Silas board?”

  Raul shook his head slowly and swallowed hard. “One of our packmates claimed to see Silas board the Greece-bound plane, but upon further questioning, his certainty wavered.”

  “Damn it, Raul!” Drake spun around, his teeth chattering with pent-up rage. The wolf inside him rattled his bones, threatening to burst free. “That’s not good enough! I want Silas found and I want him found now!”

  Windows shook. The floor vibrated. They were nothing compared to the shock waves rolling through Drake’s middle. He wanted Silas to pay with blood for attacking Emelia.

  “Until Emelia makes her decision, she’s in danger, Raul.” Drake spat the words. “Alert the entire pack.”

  “Our best packmates are guarding her now, another two are stationed outside her apartment, and the others in the area have been informed to keep an eye out for suspicious werewolf activity from neighboring packs.”

  “Good.” Drake’s mind raced. “It’s nearly eight. Is everything ready?”

  Silas had demanded a conference call with Drake at eight sharp. Drake had wanted to tell his brother to fuck off. That trying to kill Emelia might not have been a declaration of war, but it didn’t matter—Silas had crossed the crazy line. But Drake couldn’t pass up an opportunity to get a read on where Silas might be. He was probably calling midflight, but the sound of a mumbling packmate in the background or the slip of a pilot announcing their destination might be all it would take to reveal his location. He was looking for something. Anything.

  “Everything’s set,” Raul said. “All our bases are covered.”

  “Damn well they better be.”

  Drake glanced at the wall to this right, the one filled with six very blank flat-screen televisions. The instant the clock ticked over to 8:00 a.m., the large screen in the center of the wall flickered to life. Silas’s head and shoulders crowded the screen, making Drake feel like he was looking in the bathroom mirror. While Silas’s hair was the same color as Drake’s, dark like an oil slick, it was a bit shorter and didn’t reach his ears. His jaw was just as square as Drake’s, his brows just as thick, his shoulders just as broad. Only the tiny indention on Drake’s left ear marked a difference between the twins, and most people never noticed.

  “Brother,” Silas greeted with a slippery smile. “Good to see you.”

  “Wish I could say the same.”

  Silas’s smile dropped. “Down to business already? I haven’t seen you in years and you can’t find a ‘howdy, brother’ in you anywhere? Pity.”

  “You attacked an innocent woman. You think I’m going to kiss your ass and play nice simply because we share the same genes? Wouldn’t count on it.”

  “Oh, she’s far from innocent,” Silas said, his dark eyes shadowing over. “We both know what she is. I felt your connection to her the instant you did.”

  “I want you to leave Emelia out of this.” The fire in Drake’s gut kindled with hatred. “How could you stoop so low, brother? How could you do it?”

  They’d been close growing up, more than friends, more than brothers. They’d been inseparable. All it took was one fateful night, and one horrible mistake, for everything to flip on its head. Silas hadn’t been the same since their father died. Since the night Drake was on guard and their father was attacked by an insane packmate who’d gone rogue. There was nothing Drake could’ve done to save their father. By the time the alert had been sounded, it was too late.
But that didn’t mean Silas forgave him for it. In fact, it was the unfortunate opposite. Silas hadn’t stopped blaming Drake since the day it happened.

  “I think you’ve forgotten that the position of Alpha was rightfully mine.” Silas’s eyebrows pinched. “You shouldn’t be in this position. I was born first. If our father was alive, he would’ve been out of his prime. He would’ve passed the title to me, and you’d be waiting until he died to claim the investments in his estate.”

  “Father’s death was not my fault, Silas,” Drake said. “You have to let it go.”

  “Maybe you should let your little strumpet go instead. Get a real taste for how it feels to lose the person you love most in the world at the hands of someone else.”

  Fire erupted in Drake’s belly, churning into an inferno of rage. “You touch a hair on her head and I swear on our father’s grave that I will hunt you down like the dog you are. When I’m done with you, you’ll be begging for mercy.”

  “Ha! You don’t even know where the hell I am now! How do you expect to find me to finish this plan of yours?” Silas belted out a laugh that echoed through the boardroom. “I think the rumor about Luminaries is true. They do make Alphas batshit crazy.”

  “Fuck you,” Drake spat.

  “I’m gonna make you a deal, brother.” Silas leaned toward the camera until his sneering face filled the screen. “You hand over control of our father’s pack, declare in front of everyone that you are conceding to my rule, that I am the Alpha and rightful heir to the throne, and I’ll let your precious Emelia live.”

  The floor beneath Drake’s feet slipped away. His legs dangled over the edge of his chair, going numb from the toes up as the feeling of being swept away on a rogue wind dizzied him. Blood pounded against his temples and rushed through his ears.

  He couldn’t deal with the devil. He just couldn’t. Once Silas ruled the pack, he’d have more power than he’d know what to do with. His blame and hatred wouldn’t stop. Silas would focus the army of the pack on Drake no matter what he said or did. In order to protect Emelia, Drake needed to stay in control. He needed the protection of the pack and to keep their strength out of Silas’s hands.

  “I’ll always love you, Silas,” Drake said, fighting back a snarl. “And I wish it wasn’t like this…but you’ve just sealed your fate.”

  He disconnected the call before Silas asked for everything.

  “Raul, have the men go back over this tape. Look for any clues. Sounds, flinches, cues, anything that might give a clue as to where he’s headed. Keep me posted on the flight information that comes from the ground.”

  “Will do.” Raul nodded and wildly scribbled a note on the pad of paper in front of him.

  Shoving his arms into his coat, trying not to think about the family ties he’d just severed, Drake marched to the door. Damn it, he’d almost forgotten about the planning for Emelia’s bar; he’d spread himself too thin this time. “And Raul, I need you to reschedule the business meetings from this afternoon to Monday. I have to take the rest of today to finalize the deal for Emelia’s bar.”

  Raul met Drake at the door. “I thought you said you were leaving the lawsuit in her hands.”

  “I am,” Drake said as rain battered the windows in a relentless onslaught. “I’m talking about the other bar. The one that’ll make her forget all about the Knight Owl.”

  “I’m sorry if this is overstepping my grounds, sir, but I overheard one of her guards talking…”

  Shit, here it comes.

  “From my understanding of what I heard, you told Emelia that a female turned werewolf wouldn’t be able to survive having an Alpha’s child.”

  Drake exited the office and nodded to Trixie on the way down the hall. “I hate to focus on responding to your comment, when I should be focused on smacking the hell out of her guards for talking behind our backs, but yes. I informed Emelia of the predicament. I thought it was the right thing to do…for her to know what kind of a future she faced with me.”

  “Begging my pardon, sir,” Raul said, pressing the elevator door button. “But who told you about that…predicament?”

  The elevator doors opened and they swept inside.

  “My father,” Drake said, folding his arms over his chest. “I remember hearing rumors about females dying while I was in training in the Sierras.”

  “Forgive me for saying so, sir, but your father was wrong.”

  Drake’s gaze shot to Raul. “What are you talking about?”

  “My cousin Veronica was turned by her husband, the Alpha of his pack in New Mexico. They have five beautiful, healthy children, and she’ll be three hundred and two next month.”

  “Son of a bitch.” He’d lied. “Why would he lie about something like that?”

  Drake didn’t need an answer. His father had always believed turned werewolves were weaker, and would never be as strong as pure-blooded, born wolves. He’d never wanted his sons to bond for love. He’d wanted them to bond for strength and the strong succession of the pack.

  He had brainwashed them.

  Emelia would be able to have his children. His heirs. They could build their future with or without children, but at least now they had the choice.

  As the elevator doors hissed shut, Drake’s heart skipped a beat.

  Chapter Seventeen

  By the time Emelia shut off the lights in the bar, it was just past 2:00 a.m. The night had been slow. Slower than she’d ever seen on a Friday night. Were the other businesses in the area being affected the same way? She’d counted one thousand dollars in the till. Much less than it should’ve been, even for the weekend before Thanksgiving.

  Emelia flipped up her hood and made her way outside, following the three packmates who seemed to be stuck to her side like glue. Drake’s black convertible Roadster was parked against the curb, its soft-top in place, its windshield wipers sloshing rain onto the sidewalk. Drake exited his car, circled the front, and met them under the awning.

  “I’ve got things from here, gentlemen,” Drake said, his dark, brooding eyes flickering from one packmate to another. “Thank you for your service tonight.”

  “No problem, sir,” Logan said with a curt nod. He turned his attention to Emelia. “If there’s anything else you need from me, Ms. Hudson, don’t hesitate to let me know. I left my card on the bar.”

  Drake grabbed Logan by the scruff of his neck. “In case you didn’t understand, I said beat it.”

  Logan nodded, and Drake released his hold.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” Emelia said as her bodyguards strode to the public parking lot across the street. “He’s just trying to be helpful.”

  “There’s a fine line between helpful and…helpful.” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down. “He knows what I’m talking about, and he knows I’m only half-serious.”

  Drake was officially jealous. Emelia’s pride swelled.

  “You know,” she said, locking up, “it’s a good thing he’s being the first kind of helpful, the one before the eerie eyebrow dance.”

  Drake laughed as Emelia scanned the sidewalk, looking for signs of a stranger, a werewolf—someone who would jump out from between the buildings and attack her. The last time she’d come out of her bar at this hour, one of Silas’s packmates had been there, ready to take her head off. Although Emelia didn’t see anyone around, the creepy, hair-on-end feeling that someone was watching her remained as strong as ever.

  “How’d it go tonight?”

  “Good,” she lied.

  She turned around and caught her breath. She hadn’t noticed Drake’s attire. He was dressed in dark-washed jeans, a stone-gray sweater, and combat boots. He was drenched, his dark hair sticking to his forehead in wet strands. For the first time, Drake had opted out of his stuffy suit and tie, or his pressed-straight polo shirts and slacks. Emelia fought the smile tweaking the corners of her mouth. He didn’t dress up for their date. At least not in the way she’d expected him to. This was better.

  Somehow, fr
om a few brief seconds at her side, Drake eased the tension in Emelia’s shoulders and settled the anxiety swirling in her stomach. She felt safe with him. Like no one would be able to touch a hair on her head with him around.

  “Have you been waiting out here long?” she asked, pocketing her keys.

  “No, just got here. I had some business to take care of earlier that consumed my day.” It was clear that he wanted to say more, but didn’t.

  “Want to talk about it?” she asked.

  “Not really. Everything’s being handled properly. I’m just looking forward to spending tonight with you to get my mind off things.”

  Palming the small of her back, Drake led Emelia to his car, opened the door and waited for her to settle into the leather seat. He really was a gentleman, wasn’t he? Probably one of the only few left in the world. He slid into the driver’s seat and brought the car roaring to life. She took Drake’s hand as he gripped the stick shift. His skin was wet but warm, and her hand molded into his perfectly. Just the way she knew it would.

  “So where are we going on this first date of ours?” she asked.

  “You ask a lot of questions, you know that? I told you earlier, it’s a surprise.” The car lurched forward as he slammed it into gear and peeled out, leaving the worries of the night far behind them. “Hold on.”

  She gripped the “oh-shit” handle on the doorframe as Drake drove the BMW hard, handling it masterfully around curves, flooring it when they had room on the road, and stopping at lights without a single jar. Emelia couldn’t help but throw her head back, laughing from her belly when Drake slowed for passing cops and then sped around the next corner without looking back. Once they hit the freeway and followed signs to Auburn, Drake really let loose, revving the engine to its max, speeding down the slick roadway like he owned it.

  When they exited fifteen minutes later, Emelia was smiling so hard that her cheeks hurt.