Running with Wolves (Shifter Country Wolves Book 1)

by Noir, Roxie

“And you,” he said to Shane. “If this is how you are, you can go join another pack.”

  Elliott stepped forward and opened his mouth to apologize for his mate.

  Then he shut it and just stared at the alpha, feeling Shane’s wolf eyes on him.

  Be on Shane’s side here, he reminded himself. He’s more important than the pack.

  “Let’s go,” he said to his mate, and then turned to leave.

  Chapter Eleven

  Shane

  For the second time in a few days, Shane trotted after his mate, still in his wolf form. This time, though, he wasn’t sorry at all. Zeke had totally and completely deserved to get punched right in the face.

  I’d do it again, thought Shane. I’d do it twenty more times. He can’t talk to Elliott that way.

  He shifted back to human and got into the car, in the passenger seat, while Elliott got behind the wheel. Shane could see one vein pulse in his mate’s face. Elliott was just as pissed as the last time that he’d tried to beat up Zeke.

  The difference was now Shane was pissed too.

  “You can’t go around punching everyone in heRustvale every time something happens that you don’t like,” Elliott said.

  “Not everyone,” retorted Shane. “Just Zeke, because he’s an asshole.”

  “You could have cost us our place in the pack!” Elliott said. He hit one fist against the steering wheel with so much force that the frame of the car shook.

  “You mean the pack that wants all its women pregnant and its men doing manual labor jobs only?” Shane said, feeling his own white-hot rage begin to boil over inside him. “The pack where the alpha offered to sell his daughter to someone thirty minutes ago, because apparently it’s so horrible to be single and childless when you’re all of thirty?”

  “You don’t understand packs because you never had one,” retorted Elliott. “Just because your parents were weird outcasts doesn’t mean that you have to be.”

  “Don’t drag them into this,” said Shane.

  Elliott still hadn’t started the car.

  “You think you’re too good for the pack,” said Elliott, viciously. “You’ve got some lone wolf fantasy about Shane, the cowboy, out alone on the range and he doesn’t need anyone but himself.”

  “And you’ve got some fantasy about family and friends who care about you,” Shane shot back, in no mood for one of Elliott’s high-and-mighty moods. “You care about them ten times more than they care about you. You’re just a cog in a wheel to them, a way for the pack to get more wolves someday when you reproduce. They don’t care if you’re happy, they just care if you follow the rules.”

  “Sure, and you’re a rebel and renegade for being the first wolf who thinks he doesn’t need a pack.”

  Shane opened his door again, still naked, letting the cool air rush in.

  “I’m walking home,” he said, getting out.

  “Shane, get back in the car,” Elliott shouted, but Shane stood and slammed the door.

  Elliott got out and said something that Shane couldn’t hear, his words lost to the night, but Elliott still looked pissed.

  Shane shifted. Then he trotted around the front of the car and looked up at Elliott.

  “Sure, you’re proving your point,” Elliott said, his voice laced with sarcasm. “That’ll fucking show me.”

  Shane shook himself off, then trotted into the woods in the direction of their house.

  The moment he was out of sight of the barn, he grabbed a sapling between his teeth and pulled, doing his absolute best to rip the tiny tree out of the ground, growling as he did.

  Fucking Elliott, he thought. Those assholes don’t care about him and they never will. No one ever really changes, not people, not shifters. Tigers don’t change their stripes and wolves don’t change their... fuck it, whatever.

  He twisted his head from side to side, making the little tree bounce crazily around, its leaves whipping through the air as he could feel the roots begin to pull out of the earth. It felt great to destroy something, even something as small and helpless and stupid as a baby tree.

  What he wanted was to punch Zeke in the damn face again, and then maybe he’d punch Elliott’s parents for hardly giving him a chance in life, and then he’d punch the alpha into sometime next Tuesday.

  There’s no way I’m joining that pack, Shane thought. I’m not about to just go along with what some asshole says I should do. Especially if that asshole’s also going to treat his daughter like a piece of meat or a goat for sale or some piece of land that a guy can just fucking park himself on—

  The sapling finally came out of the ground, sending Shane reeling back, landing hard on his haunches. Even though he was still angry, he couldn’t help but feel the pleased canine inside him, delighted that he’d pulled a stick out of the ground, and his tail wagged, just a little.

  This is why I need wolf time, he thought to himself. Because sticks are still pretty great.

  He grabbed a branch between his teeth and tore it from the sapling’s thin trunk victoriously.

  It was the best form of anger management therapy he’d ever found.

  Hours later, he padded into the clearing, then sat, just in front of the tree line, examining the big house, the downstairs lights all still lit. For a moment, Shane wasn’t a hundred percent certain that it was his house — he’d only lived there for a few days, and had barely seen it from the outside at night — but the moving truck in the driveway was a dead giveaway.

  Glad to see I already know my way home, he thought. We should return that truck.

  Elliott left the lights on for me.

  Maybe he’s not as mad as he was.

  He walked up the front steps, then paused at the door, looking down at the welcome mat.

  We haven’t hidden a key again yet, he remembered. Shit.

  Instead, the door opened, and Elliott stood there, a fire crackling away in the fireplace behind him.

  “There you are,” he said.

  Shane shifted back, his human form cold in the night air.

  “You stayed up,” he said. “It must be three in the morning.”

  “Two thirty,” said Elliott, and shrugged. “I wasn’t sure you knew the way home.”

  “I guess I did.”

  “You coming in?” Elliott said, his voice low. He stepped back, and Shane came through the door, shivering.

  Elliott reached behind him and handed him the wool blanket they kept near the sofa, and the two men looked at each other for a long moment.

  “Sorry for running off,” Shane said.

  Elliott shook his head, running his hand through his hair.

  “I’m sorry for making you come to that meeting,” he said. “I knew you weren’t really interested.”

  “I probably shouldn’t have punched Zeke.”

  Elliott snorted, half-smiling.

  “I’m only mad you punched Zeke because I didn’t do it first,” he said.

  “Not because the alpha’s mad at you?”

  Elliott sort of shrugged.

  “You’re not the first wolf to get in a fight in the middle of a meeting and you won’t be the last,” he said.

  “True.” Shane paused for a moment, not quite sure how to say what he wanted to say. Talking about his emotions had never been his strong suit, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t about to get magically easier.

  “You’re too good of a person sometimes,” he said, knowing that he wasn’t quite conveying what he meant. “I just mean, you always think the best of people, sometimes, and I’m worried that you have this idea about the pack, that they’ll be your new brothers and always have your back.”

  He swallowed.

  “But you think that they’re all the same people they were in high school?” asked Elliott, finishing his sentence for him.

  Shane nodded, and Elliott watched him, sadly.

  “I think you’re right,” Elliott said, simply.

  “I’m sorry,” said Shane. “I don’t want to be right.”r />
  Elliott just shrugged.

  “There’s more than one way to make a family,” he said. “Joining the pack is one way, but no one says we can’t still be happy and healthy and whole. I’ll probably still join, because it feels weird not to, but I don’t want to depend on them.”

  Shane nodded.

  “What about Greta?” he asked, softly.

  “Greta’s gonna do what Greta’s gonna do,” Elliott said. “I think she made that pretty clear.”

  “I hope she decides we’re worthwhile,” Shane said.

  “Me too,” said Elliott. He took a step forward, then pulled on the blanket wrapped around Shane and gave his mate a long, lingering kiss.

  “Come to bed,” he said. “I waited up until nearly three in the morning, and I’ve got work tomorrow.”

  Shane rested his forehead against his mate’s.

  “She wouldn’t run away, would she?” he asked.

  “Too early to worry about that,” Elliott said. “It’s been a couple of hours. She’s got her family and the bar. She’s probably fine.”

  “You’re right,” said Shane, pulling Elliott closer to him, the feeling of flannel against bare skin. “She can take care of herself.”

  The two of them walked up the stairs to their bedroom, hand in hand.

  Shane called Greta every couple of hours for most of the next day, but she never picked up. The more he called the more he felt like a weird stalker, like she must think that he and Elliott were only interested in her for all the reasons her father had said. Because they thought she’d be easy to get, already past her prime or something.

  “Hi,” said her voicemail yet again. “You’ve reached Greta Waltz, and I’m not in right now...”

  Shane hung up without leaving another message.

  Please let her not have run off, Shane thought. I know she can go wherever she wants and do anything, but please just let her call me back and tell me that she’s all right.

  He wanted a lot more than that from her — he wanted to pick up where they’d left off, he wanted to taste more of her delicious, perfect skin in front of the fire, listen to her laugh turn to yelps of pleasure — but mostly, he just wanted her to be all right.

  “I’m starving,” said Elliott, the moment he came through the door.

  “We’ve got frozen dinners and a microwave,” said Shane. “I was unpacking today.”

  “What, no gourmet surf-and-turf from my doting house husband?” Elliott teased.

  “You can have your office unpacked or your dinner made on time,” Shane teased right back. “Today you get the office.”

  Elliott stuck out his tongue, grabbed two microwave dinners from the freezer, and put them in.

  “You hear anything from Greta?” he asked. Shane could tell that he was trying not to sound worried, but he was.

  “No,” Shane said.

  “Me either,” said Elliott.

  “I’m sure she’s okay,” said Shane. “She’s probably back at home or at the bar, cooling off from the pack meeting.”

  They waited in silence for a few more minutes, until the microwave beeped.

  “Want to go over there after we eat?” Elliott asked. “See if she’s there?”

  Shane hesitated. On one hand, she’d been pretty clear that she needed some time.

  On the other hand, that had been almost a full day ago.

  “Okay,” he said.

  Elliott grabbed a fork from the drawer and just dug in, leaning against the counter. Shane had fully intended to at least sit at the table, but watching Elliott eat his mushroom pasta, he gave in and started eating right there in the kitchen as well.

  Fuck it, he thought. We’re animals, after all.

  Even though the dinner wasn’t very good, he nearly licked the plastic tray clean, he was so hungry.

  Before he could figure out what else there was to eat, there was a knock on their front door.

  He and Elliott looked at each other.

  “Is that the cable guy?” asked Elliott.

  Shane frowned.

  “It’s seven at night,” Shane said. He tossed his plastic tray in the sink and walked to the door, Elliott trailing behind him.

  It’s someone from the pack, he thought.

  This is worse than I thought it would be. They’ll be like the mafia, and they’re going to give Elliott and I one hour to get out of town or they’ll burn the house down or something, all because I keep punching Zeke.

  There was another knock on the door, louder this time.

  “Coming!” Elliott called out, and Shane shot him a look.

  “Is it the pack?” Shane hissed. He could feel his body already moving into a crouch, ready to shift and fight at a second’s notice.

  “What are you talking about?” Elliott asked.

  “After I punched someone?”

  Elliott gave him a weird look and opened the door, completely unconcerned.

  “Hi,” said Greta.

  Shane stood up straight, shoving his hands into his pockets like he hadn’t been half-crouched behind his mate, thrilled to see Greta and relieved that she wasn’t the pack, there to kick his ass.

  She swallowed, then looked from Shane to Elliott and back.

  “Is this a bad time?” she asked, seeming a little nervous.

  “No,” said Shane.

  “Not at all,” said Elliott. “We were just, um, talking about you. Come in.”

  “Good stuff or bad stuff?” she asked.

  “Neutral stuff,” said Elliott, a gleam in his eye.

  Greta gave a short laugh, then seemed to relax a little.

  “I guess that’s all right,” she said, sliding her own hands into her pockets, like she felt awkward and wasn’t quite sure what to say.

  “Did you eat already?” Shane asked, finally finding his voice. “I mean, we just microwaved TV dinners, but I think we’ve got some more if you’re hungry.”

  Greta lifted her eyebrows.

  “You microwave TV dinners?” she teased, her perfect, sly smile spreading over her face. Shane could feel his heart beat faster in his chest. “I thought it was gourmet cooking here every night.”

  “Apparently not,” said Elliott, casting Shane a teasing look. “Today I was told that I could have my office unpacked or my dinner made, but not both.”

  Greta laughed.

  “That’s fair,” she said.

  “There’s still cheesecake,” Shane offered. “Even the two of us aren’t capable of eating most of a cheesecake in two days.

  “And we’ve tried,” said Elliott.

  “Yes,” Greta said, her eyes getting a little wider. “Yes, a thousand times yes to cheesecake.”

  Shane grinned, finally relaxing all the way.

  “Then come on back to where the magic happens,” he said.

  “You made that joke a couple of nights ago,” Greta told him, following his path to the kitchen.

  Behind her, Elliott laughed out loud.

  “Shit,” Shane said.

  He served the cheesecake on dinner plates that were far too large for the slices, but he couldn’t find the dessert plates, even though he knew he’d had them two days ago.

  Fuck unpacking, he thought for the thousandth time that day.

  “This is still incredible,” Greta said. “I think it might be better today.”

  “Nah,” Shane said. “The crust got a little soggy.”

  Elliott didn’t say anything, just rolled his eyes and kept eating.

  There was a moment of silence, as the men tucked into their dessert and Greta looked down at her cake.

  “So I wanted to come over and apologize,” she said. “I got all your messages, and I almost called you back, but then I figured, just go over and see them in person, and maybe they’ll have cake.”

  “Correct on that count,” said Elliott around a mouthful.

  “I wasn’t mad at you,” she said. “It was my dad. Again.”

  Shane nodded.

  “This
has been an ongoing argument I’ve had with them,” she said, poking the surface of her cake gently with her fork. “I have a pretty good life, you know? And even if I don’t have a mate or two yet, I own a business that does well, and I own a house, and I like how things have turned out for me. But all they’re capable of seeing is ‘single and thirty’ so they all assume that I must be miserable and desperate for someone to come take me off the market.”

  She jammed her fork into the cheesecake and took a bite.

  Elliott nodded and swallowed.

  “We didn’t ask you on a date because we thought your dad was going to reward us with a herd of goats,” he said softly.

  Greta snort-laughed.

  “We asked you on a date because you stopped a bar fight between two wolves and make a mean cocktail,” Shane said.

  “You only had whiskey that night, not a cocktail,” Greta said.

  “I guess it was just the bar fight, then.”

  Greta looked pleased, despite herself, and took another bite of her cheesecake.

  “Well,” she said. “I’m sorry that I ran off. I couldn’t quite deal with seeing you guys after my dad basically told the whole pack that I’m a wrinkled old prune. It felt like people might think you were only after me to make my dad happy.”

  “That’s not at all why we’re after you,” Elliott assured her, a grin slowly taking over his face.

  Greta ate the last bite of her cheesecake, then sighed, putting her plate into the sink.

  “Okay,” she said, looking from Shane to Elliott and back. “Where’d we leave off the other night?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Greta

  Greta could hear her heart thundering through her veins as she said it. She didn’t think she’d ever been so bold in her life — even though she wasn’t shy normally, she always got a little nervous when it came to romance.

  Not that she’d needed to worry.

  With a huge grin on his face, Shane swooped down and in a second, he’d picked her up and was striding with her into the living room, where he practically tossed her down onto the couch, right in front of the fireplace.