Rogue Huntress (Wolf Legacy Book 3)

by Aimee Easterling

  But not today. Instead, Sebastien’s eyes narrowed in consideration. Then he shrugged and accepted my change of subject as the reprieve it was. “Consider the table set,” he answered, fingers skimming lower to caress bare skin before he released me entirely from his grasp.

  So I was trying to tamp down guilt at my relentless evasions while juggling rolls and butter and a sweet-scented pound cake when the sharp retort of a rifle returned me to the present with a jolt. For half a second I did my level best to turn the sound into the slamming of a door or the backfiring of a vehicle. But it was impossible to delude myself when gunpowder seasoned the steamy scents filtering into my nose with the harsh salt of danger.

  Uh oh. It looked like maybe we weren’t so safe here after all. Evasions were apparently the least of the dangers currently facing my human mate.

  Chapter 7

  I wasted three precious seconds placing Sebastien’s cake on a cooling rack. Then I grabbed a butcher knife and sprinted toward the front of the building to rejoin my mate.

  “Are the attackers humans or werewolves?” I whispered urgently as I sped down the seemingly endless corridor in the direction of the invaders. But despite straining my ears in search of further information, gunshots were my only reply.

  Only after terror had dried my throat and sent my breath rasping loudly in my ears did I realize the obvious. Of course Sebastien won’t answer. He lacks lupine hearing. Luckily, I had another way to reassure myself of the professor’s continued existence—I could call upon the bond that had come into existence as soon as I proclaimed Sebastien my mate.

  To that end, I reached for our shared tether, admitting even as I did so that I was grasping for reassurance as much as for information. Because if Sebastien had been shot....

  Shuddering at the mere possibility, I tripped over nothing and had to steady myself momentarily against the wall. Then I wasted an agonizing half second fumbling in search of our shared tether, finding nothing for so long that bile began creeping up the back of my throat.

  My ears were ringing with effort by the time my hand latched onto the invisible rope running straight from my belly toward my absent mate. Only, the connection now lay lax and useless between my fingers. As if there was nothing on the other end to pull against at all....

  Impossible, I decided, ignoring the ice-cold lump in my throat and instead picking up my pace as I continued toward Sebastien’s last known location. And this time, lupine senses at last answered the question of who was coming to call. A crunch of tires on gravel and the squeal of overworked brakes proved that more than one vehicle was approaching our secluded retreat. Meanwhile, the howl of a pissed-off werewolf clinched the deal.

  Shifters rather than government agents had hunted us down. Out of two bad scenarios, we had fallen prey to the worst.

  At least I’d finally achieved the end of the hallway and could begin determining what had happened to my human partner. Clinging to the wall, I peered around the corner into the gargantuan living area where Sebastien and I had curled up together the evening before. But the bright, inviting space I’d woken into was no longer present, the room having instead morphed into a cavern with shades drawn and a barricade of furniture blocking the closed front door.

  Despite the ominous arrangement, though, my breath wheezed out in relief as both ears and nose caught hints of my mate’s heartbeat and scent. Sebastien was both alive and present. Everything else could be sorted out later.

  We weren’t out of the woods quite yet, though. Because my favorite professor was crouching beside the only window not fully covered by curtains, his rifle barrel sticking out the crack. And as I crept forward, I had to force myself not to jump when Sebastien pulled the trigger time after time, barely a second elapsing between each loud retort.

  My mate certainly didn’t look much like a simple human college professor now. Instead, as he popped the clip and reloaded with grim efficiency, I couldn’t help assessing the way Sebastien’s scent burned with aggression rather than with the terror that hazed my own form. Clearly, I wasn’t the only one harboring secrets. Someday soon, my mate and I would have to hash out our differences and fully discover the other’s identity once and for all....

  Sebastien is on our side, my wolf reminded me, padding forward until we stood no more than three feet behind the professor’s bent back. Answers come later. For now, we need to stand by our mate.

  The wolf’s instincts were right, of course. Still, I found myself turning sideways to present a smaller target as I announced my presence loudly enough for even a human to hear. “I’m behind you,” I warned, tensing in anticipation of an erratic spray of gunfire when the professor reacted to my unexpected approach.

  But Sebastien merely nodded without turning, as if he’d been aware of my arrival as soon as I stepped into the room. “There are seven vehicles out front,” he told me, voice calm yet efficient. “Some contain people, some wolves. I’ve been popping tires and waiting for you to show up so you can make a proper ID....”

  “An ID?” Creeping forward, I slithered into place at the opposite corner of the window, lifting the shade ever so briefly to glance outside. Surely no one except enemies would arrive in force at such an isolated retreat? As such, it didn’t seem like a smart idea to waste our limited ammunition taking down vehicles when living shifters would soon be going for both of our throats.

  Only I was wrong, as I quickly realized upon taking in the view. The drive out front was built in the shape of a circle, a ten-foot-tall fountain in the center surrounded by rose bushes that reached long tendrils into the surrounding space. But the vegetation couldn’t quite hide the familiar vehicles scattered hither and yon across the broad expanse.

  A battered pickup. A perfectly polished sports car. A couple of SUVs and sedans. Then, the modified school bus impossible to confuse with any other—Dad’s huge black wolf-carrier, glowing eyes painted on the front and ominous flames encircling the deep wheel wells. I didn’t need to walk around to the rear to know that the currently invisible back windshield would be cluttered with a vast array of stickers depicting both dogs and people, Wolfie’s idea of a joke.

  “It’s my pack,” I breathed, lifting the sash and leaping through the window onto the white-washed porch without further explanation. Sebastien’s instincts had been spot on. Our invaders weren’t enemies after all. No, Dad had managed to track me down first.

  Chapter 8

  Wolves surrounded me on every side. They poured out of hatchbacks, streamed through doors, and engulfed me in their furry approval every bit as if I was still tied into the invisible network of pack that I’d abandoned in order to claim my mate.

  Meanwhile, older clan members proved their maturity by keeping their cool, walking forward on entirely human feet. I nodded my greetings to all and sundry while counting heads and realizing that Dad had brought everyone along, from our newest pack mates all the way up to aging elders. My young niece Rosie chattered in the background, her human grandmother scowled predictable disapproval, and Harmony blew me a silent kiss from the back of the crowd.

  But it was my parents who drew me into their arms before I even had time to speak. First Dad engulfed me in a tight bear hug while emitting a wordless growl that was nearly all wolf. Then Mom was pulling me away from her life partner, characteristic aromas of chocolate and birch sap searing my eyes with unbidden tears.

  “How’d you find us?” I murmured into Mom’s hair as she squeezed the breath out of my lungs. I wasn’t really asking so much as I was emoting. But Uncle Chase clued me in anyway even as he clamped a calming hand upon my father’s shoulder to prevent the latter from playing tug of war with my breakable form.

  “Your father’s timer included a subroutine to pinpoint your current location. Luckily, we were already in the area begging for....” Then Chase’s mouth abruptly snapped shut as Wolfie’s growl sent a shiver down every bystander’s spine.

  For a moment, I thought Dad was so on edge that he was berating his best f
riend for sharing more than he ought. But then I realized that every eye had turned to look behind me. And hair stood up all over my body as a long rumble of warning emanated from the sea of wolves spread across the drive.

  The love fest was officially over, and I knew why before I even finished turning around to face the house. Sebastien hadn’t hung back as I’d expected, giving me time to explain his presence to my over-protective pack. Instead, unwilling to hide behind my metaphorical skirts a moment longer, the professor was advancing toward us with hands carefully situated away from his body to prove his lack of weapons. He might as well have pasted a thought-bubble above his head saying, “I come in peace.”

  Unfortunately, the rifle Sebastien had cradled in his arms moments earlier was still heavy in everyone’s memory. Meanwhile, acrid gunpowder hung around his body, making the closest wolves sneeze even as those further away snarled out a warning.

  A human nose, of course, gave my mate no way of knowing that he antagonized my relatives via scent alone. Instead, his gaze remained locked on my parents’ faces despite the furry heads that barely parted to allow his approach.

  “Sir, ma’am,” Sebastien acknowledged when he’d come near enough to speak at a normal volume. His steps didn’t slow, though, and I could tell that every pace he took was one pace closer to snapping the tenuous leash Wolfie had reining in his temper.

  I reached out for Dad’s hand, begging silently for the latter to accept my mate as a friend. But Wolfie slid forward out of my grasp and did nothing to discourage his underlings as they knocked lupine shoulders less-than-kindly against Sebastien’s thighs. One nearly sent my mate plummeting earthward when she landed a hard blow against the backs of his knees, and I opened my mouth as a preamble to easing the tension within the pack.

  Mom’s words halted me, though, before I could come up with anything likely to sway Dad over to my point of view. “Let them be,” she murmured in my ear. “Better now than later when they’re alone.”

  The pictures that came along with Terra’s words of wisdom were realistic, if disheartening. Mom and I might be able to wrestle Wolfie to the ground now if he went full-on wolf and attempted to tear out Sebastien’s throat right in front of us. On the other hand, we’d have far less chance at protecting a one-body human if this altercation took place at a later date while we were busy somewhere else....

  Still, the tooth-rattling growl that emerged from my father’s throat wasn’t a good sign, and neither was the question he finally managed to spit out when he assembled human words. “Who are you?” my father demanded as he stopped his own forward motion three feet shy of my still-advancing mate.

  As if by mutual consent, Sebastien halted as well, fists clenched just like his opponent’s even as the scent of gunpowder on the air gave way to the heady haze of testosterone. They stood there for a long moment, two alpha males who each had good reason to call me their own, neither willing to back down from his current show of strength.

  Then Sebastien reached out one hand as if he really thought my father might descend to the level of a human handshake. When the gesture was rebuffed, he merely shrugged and answered aloud. “I’m Sebastien Carter,” he offered. “College professor, Uber driver, and—if I understand shifter parlance correctly—I’m also your daughter’s mate.”

  Chapter 9

  Mate. The word affected me more powerfully than a hit of double-dark chocolate. And even though I couldn’t help noticing that the tether running between me and Sebastien still stubbornly refused to cooperate, I was already pushing past a bevy of cousins to attain the professor’s side.

  Because while I might be thrilled to hear the word “mate” flutter out of Sebastien’s lips, Dad wouldn’t be nearly so amused. No matter what Mom had recently admonished, I wasn’t about to let a mere human deal with my father’s wrath alone.

  Only, Wolfie wasn’t angry. The testosterone-laden scent of fur that had infused every breath since I leapt out the Pinnacle’s front window faded so abruptly it might as well have been a figment of my imagination. And when Dad leaned forward, the gesture wasn’t a prelude to wrapping broad hands around Sebastien’s throat and strangling the assertion back into the latter’s lungs.

  No, my father was grasping the professor by the shoulders then pulling the younger male into a deep, lupine hug. “Welcome to the family, son,” Dad said as he released my mate, the words less wolf-like than his tone had been since the clan’s arrival. And, in response, my fur-form pack mates lifted their noses to the heavens and howled out a chorus of agreement while the two-legged set surged forward to greet Sebastien with raucous shows of affection that threatened to topple him onto his knees.

  Usually, I dove into werewolf welcomes with wild abandon. But Sebastien’s introduction to shifter-kind had involved a slaughter of innocents combined with a literal trial by fire, so I didn’t expect him to respond well to my relatives’ heavy-handed advances.

  Still, when I wriggled between two uncles and caught my mate’s eye at last, Sebastien’s equanimity was as inspiring as it had been a moment earlier. “It’s okay,” he called toward me, eyes crinkling into a surprisingly honest smile. “I can handle myself. But I think your stew might be burning...?”

  Sure enough, the faint aroma of charcoal was carrying toward us on the breeze. And I wasn’t the only one able to smell the lapse either.

  “Stew?” a cousin demanded, shifting upward from wolf to man so abruptly that he nearly knocked me off my feet. “You’re cooking?”

  “Which means there’s dessert,” another newly transformed cousin agreed. I turned my head to answer the latter...only to be stopped in my tracks when a leggy gray wolf slapped her tail against my thigh once to get my attention before beginning to shift far more slowly than her relatives had done.

  Becca hadn’t been old enough to tap into her lupine alter-ego when I left Haven less than a week earlier. But now my favorite cousin forced her way through a series of painful transmutations before unfolding from the ground and wrapping furless arms around my neck.

  “Ember, I missed you,” the scrawny twelve-year-old murmured in my ear. Then, raising her nose to the air, the girl sniffed before adding, “And I missed your cake too.”

  “Heart-felt praise indeed,” I answered, rumpling Becca’s hair and trying to ignore the lump that had settled into my own throat in the process. A first shift was a momentous occasion both for the wolf in question and for the entire pack. I couldn’t believe Becca’s big moment had happened while I was away....

  Instinctively, I reached for the invisible connection that should have provided a glimmer of the celebration my pack mates had shared in my absence. But I came up empty. Of course, I did. After all, I’d severed that tether myself when I bound myself to my human mate.

  Still, the momentary twinge of packlessness was quickly forgotten in the mass exodus of young shifters. Wolves and two-leggers alike howled as they made a break for the Pinnacle within which my mate’s precious pound cake resided. “Last one there gets crumbs!” Becca called over one shoulder, eyes glinting with mischief and teeth bared in challenge.

  “No, wait!” I demanded. Then, giving in to the moment, I leapt into the skin of my wolf and raced them for the door.

  THE POUND CAKE I’D intended for my mate disappeared down shifter gullets before I managed to press through the gang of hooligans and reach the kitchen’s center island. Well, that’s not quite true. Becca had saved me one mouthful, the morsel lopsided and ungainly as it sat on the sole saucer in sight. Everyone else, apparently, had ripped their share apart with dirty fingers and eaten the pastry without benefit of fork and knife.

  Now, my cousin waggled her eyebrows as she dangled the final portion in front of my lupine nose. “For your mate,” Becca teased. Then descending even further into recently renounced childhood, she began to chant. “Ember and Sebastien sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G....”

  Musically talented my cousin was not. Still, as I shifted upward into my human form, I couldn’
t help grinning. Because Becca had certainly proven she knew me inside and out when she struck directly at my weakest point. Of course I’d produced this chocolate concoction with Sebastien in mind. No cousin of mine would ever have doubted that fact.

  On the other hand, I certainly wasn’t about to inaugurate the professor into my baked-good version of kinship using a mangled lump of smooshed-together pastry. I also didn’t intend to go all mushy around him while dozens of aunts and uncles and cousins—plus my hot-headed father—waited in the wings.

  So, letting my dream of cake-assisted bonding slide, I accepted the saucer and surveyed the crowd instead. My current companions consisted of all the cousins I’d run wild with as a pup, the same cousins who’d lifted me up when I fell down and who had attended every birthday party I’d ever celebrated. I knew them by name, by sight, by scent...and yet, they weren’t the ones I currently wanted hovering by my side.

  Because, deep in my belly, the unpredictable tether had snapped to attention at last. And for half a second my senses merged with those of my chosen life partner.

  “A mate isn’t like a human boyfriend,” Dad was saying, his eyes nearly glowing with intensity as he leaned into the professor’s personal space. “The bond has to be created by conscious choice, at which point it then lasts for a lifetime unless purposefully broken. On those rare occasions, a shifter may never be able to mate again....”

  “So I’m bonded to your daughter permanently?” Sebastien asked, and I couldn’t tell whether he was terrified by the notion or merely asking for clarification about an arrangement that went beyond anything he’d ever experienced before.

  “Not yet,” Wolfie answered. “Ember chose you, but you haven’t chosen her back....”

  I shivered as Wolfie spelled out facts I’d been too chicken to share during our preceding journey. But before Sebastien could respond, the connection between us flickered out, leaving me staring into the wide eyes of wolves more interested in my response to Becca’s implied challenge than they were in the future of my love life.