Inking the Wolf: A wolf shifter paranormal romance (Wolves of Crookshollow Book 3)

by Steffanie Holmes

  I snuck down the stairs, careful to avoid the most creaky boards so as not to wake the other guests. A faint glow from the hallway told me the kitchen light was still on. Thinking Bianca must have left it on by mistake – she was terrible at forgetting about those things – I went in to turn it off, and was surprised to see Serenity sitting at the table under the window, her laptop open in front of her and a look of intense concentration on her face.

  She jumped when she noticed me. “Robbie, you scared me! I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d come down and get a midnight snack and do some work.”

  “Aye, hello Serenity. I didnae mean to startle you. I was just … getting some water.”

  “Don’t let me stop you,” she said, turning back to her computer, her fingers a blur as they whizzed across the keyboard.

  I wondered what she was writing with such ferocity in the middle of the night. I peeked at her computer screen as I filled my glass, but it was all a mess of gibberish to me. The moon shone through the open window, extending a shaft of pale light across the kitchen floor, like a beacon calling me into port. Clutching my glass of water, I moved back into the hall. As stealthily as I could, I set down the glass on the hall table and crept into the ballroom, shutting the door quietly behind me. With slow jerks, I eased the sash window up high enough so I could leap in and out. I took off my t-shirt and boxers and tossed them on a chaise lounge, then forced my shift.

  As soon as my paws hit the rug, my wolfish senses took over. Rolf’s scent swirled around me, forcing my throat closed so I could hardly breathe. I leapt out the window and cleared the sill, landing on the wooden porch with a dull thud. I bounded down the path, through the flowerbeds and leapt into the primroses that marked the boundary between the garden and forest.

  Trees rose up around me, like giant pillars in a church’s nave. Moonlight dappled the dirt below my paws, moving softly as a breeze caressed the trees to create striking ripples through the forest, so the world appeared to be submerged in a shimmering lake. It wasn’t long before Rolf’s scent was replaced by the myriad of sweet smells of the forest. Animal paths crisscrossed my tracks as the night creatures scurried about their business. I could read whole migrations through those whiffs of scent – a world that hummed with life completely unfazed by all the goings on in the village.

  I ran deeper, not worrying where I was going, only enjoying the breeze ruffling my fur and the soft dirt beneath my pounding paws. Sweat streaked my fur, and my tongue hung from my mouth, relishing the chance to completely let go.

  I scurried down a clearing, and came up across a scent that stopped me short. Rolf.

  He’d been out here recently, within the last twelve hours. But why had he come all the way out here? I put my nose to the ground and sniffed, trotting along as I followed his path deeper into the woods, before turning back toward the village.

  Where is Rolf? Why didn’t he come back to The Prim tonight? Is he up to something? Is he doing something to betray our pack?

  I needed answers, so I followed his trail back toward the village. I expected it to head toward the other side of The Prim, but instead it emerged right in the heart of the village itself. I exited the forest at the back of Marshell House, where Eric and Elinor lived. I darted past the old mausoleum at the back of their property, being careful to remain in the shadows in case some wayward pedestrian should see me. As I skulked in the shadows of the enormous house, I noticed their downstairs lights were on, and metal music wafted through an open window, punctuating the silent night with pounding double bass. Rolf’s path continued down the street, and I followed it, leaping from garden hedge to picket fence until it stopped at the corner, right in front of Resurrection Ink.

  Of course you smell him here, I told myself. He was here this afternoon, getting his tattoos done.

  I sniffed again, trying to separate out the different trails. Rolf had two, one leading into the shop door, and the other leading down the street. Both of them could have been from this afternoon. On the concrete, it was too difficult to tell.

  I couldn’t follow him deeper into the village without a huge risk.

  Disappointed, I turned to head back to the forest. As I did, I noticed Eric emerging from the fish-and-chip shop, a large parcel wrapped in newspaper clutched against his chest. A late-night snack for him and Elinor. His eyes met mine, and he waved. I lifted a paw to acknowledge him, then turned on my heel and headed back into the trees.

  I still hadn’t got any closer to solving the mystery of where Rolf had got to, but now that I had run out the nervous energy in my veins, all I wanted to do was curl up next to Bianca once again.

  As I dashed up the garden path and leapt back into the window again, my mind whirred with possibilities. Why is Rolf heading so deep into the forest? Did I miss somewhere where he veered off his trail to speak with some other wolf? Is he meeting another wolf outside the Lowe territory? Why hasn’t he returned?

  He’s up to something, but what?

  25

  Bianca

  The next day, my alarm rang as usual. I moaned, opening my eye just wide enough to discern a blaring line of sunlight streaming through the crack between the curtains. I jammed my eyes shut again and buried my face in the pillow. How could it be morning already?

  Robbie reached across me and slammed his hand on my phone, hitting the sleep button and shutting the damn thing up for another fifteen minutes. I grinned, and rested my head back on his shoulder. Having a man in my bed was definitely good for some things.

  Many things, actually. My legs ached from last night’s balcony romp. The things Robbie had done with his tongue … if he was trying to make a case for me agreeing to be his … his mate, then he was off to a roaring start.

  The phone buzzed again. Robbie lifted the screen. “Elinor,” he mumbled.

  “Ignore it,” I mumbled, running my fingers down his chest, as the ache between my legs pulsed for attention. “I’ll talk to her later.”

  Robbie and I stayed in bed for another hour, alternating between dozing and languid, lazy shagging. The phone rang again while I was riding him like a cowgirl, but we both ignored it. Eventually, I hauled my ass out of bed, found some clothes that were only slightly rumpled, and stumbled out the door.

  I was grinning from ear to ear as I pedalled hard down the village high street, my legs aching from their workout last night. My fingers drummed a merry tune against the handlebars as I pumped harder as the road sloped around toward the shop.

  Robbie. Last night … I’d never had sex like that before. Sure, there had been tender sex, and orgasms that blew my head off, but this was something else. It felt like we’d ascended to another plane of existence.

  Is this what he’s talking about? This … fated mates thing. When I thought about it, I’m sure I remembered Alex mentioning something about it. I tended to tune out when the other girls talked about their love stories. It was all too nauseatingly sappy for me, like the plot of some trashy romance book. But maybe I should’ve listened more carefully. I made a mental note to chat to Alex later.

  As I rounded the corner next to Resurrection Ink, I was surprised to see Elinor standing on the footpath, her head bent low as she chatted to a policeman. She ran over to me as I pulled up.

  “Where have you been?” she cried. “I’ve been calling you frantically since eight!”

  “Sorry,” I said, my heart hammering against my chest as her tone registered. Something was seriously wrong. “What happened? Are you okay?”

  Elinor’s face paled. She gestured toward the shop. My stomach twisted as I saw what had happened.

  My beautiful shop window had been smashed in, scattering tiny shards of glittering glass across the waiting area. I dropped my bike and stepped closer, my heavy Docs crunching on more broken glass strewn across the footpath, and peered inside.

  The place had been utterly trashed. The framed tattoo art we’d hung on the walls lay across the floor – the frames smashed and paintings shredded. The padded
benches and seats had been torn open, leather and stuffing hanging from them like ribbons. All our supplies lay scattered across the debris – hundreds of once sterile needles ripped from their packages and stuck into the chaise lounge like hedgehog quills, pots of ink thrown at the walls – splatters of colour dribbling down the Victorian wallpaper and staining the black tiles in a rainbow of destruction.

  “It looks like some wild animal did it,” the police officer said. “So far, we don’t have witnesses to the break-in, but we haven’t finished canvassing the village.”

  My stomach twisted. A wild animal. I knew exactly what kind of animal would have done this. A wolf. A werewolf.

  But why? It couldn’t be anyone in the Lowe pack. But if this was about pack politics, why attack me? I’m not exactly heavily involved in Caleb’s plots. I’m really only in the pack because I helped Elinor rescue Eric, and I’d seen too many weird things to be written off. But why would anyone want to do this to me?

  My knees wobbled. I tore my eyes away from it, before I started to cry. Elinor gripped my hand and pulled me away from the window. “I’ve called the insurance company. They say we’re covered, but they won’t pay out until the police finish their investigation. Can you call your tattooist friend in Crooks Crossing, see if we can work out of his shop for a while?”

  Her words flowed through my ears, but I couldn’t make any sense out of them. I kept staring at the ruined window of my precious shop.

  “Bianca?”

  “Call Caleb,” I said, my hands shaking. “Someone is trying to send us a message.”

  26

  Robbie

  Rolf still hadn’t come home. I checked his room as soon as I got up, but he hadn’t slept there all night. Weird. I wanted to bring it up with Caleb, but after what Rolf had said, I didn’t want to appear too suspicious until I had some solid proof that Rolf was up to no good.

  Macavity curled around my feet, begging for his food. Normally, cats are pretty wary around shifters, but Macavity was cool. He didn’t care who you were or what you smelled like, as long as you came with a bowl of tinned mincemeat on the end of your arm.

  I was just setting up his bowl when Hans and his models trooped down the stairs, shouting each other in German as they dragged their heavy suitcases down the stairs. “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “We are leaving,” Hans announced, throwing his skinny arms around me and squeezing me just a little closer than I was comfortable with. “We’ve greatly enjoyed our stay, but it is time for us to return to the motherland.”

  “You don’t want some breakfast before you go?”

  “Robbie, Robbie, Robbie.” Hans clapped me on the back. “You are a man of many talents, but cooking is not one of them. No, we will go to the delightful bakery of your Asian friend, and have pasties and cake.” He patted the nearest model’s ass. “We need to pack a little more onto this delightful specimen before we return to Germany.”

  The model pretended to pout, and I laughed. “Don’t leave without stopping by Resurrection Ink to say goodbye to Bianca.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t dare. And also say auf wiedersehen to that delightful journalist too, when she rises from the dead.”

  “She isn’t awake yet?” Serenity was usually the first one up in the morning, tapping away at her laptop, coffee in hand, as she watched the sunrise from the back porch.

  “Nein. We heard her come in last night, very very late. But not a peep from her Schlafzimmer all morning.”

  I remembered that she’d been up working when I came down last night, and the kitchen light had still been on when I went back to bed. I didn’t blame her for wanting a sleep in.

  I waved goodbye to Hans, then went back in to start my work on the ring once more. I was just going through the last cabinet in the study, when Bianca called. “Someone’s broken into the shop,” she sobbed. “It’s completely trashed.”

  I tossed down a pewter monkey statue and raced for the door, not even stopping to lock up. I barely registered driving into the village, but I probably broke several laws getting there.

  As soon as I stepped out of the car, I could smell Rolf’s scent. It wasn’t as strong as it had been last night, but it lingered, seeped into the footpath, clinging to the ruined furniture. Rage burned inside me as Bianca sank into my arms and I got a good look at the mess that had once been her shop.

  “I can’t believe someone would do this,” she sobbed into my shirt. “Why would a wolf want to target me? Why not Caleb or Luke?”

  “There’s only one wolf smell here,” I said. “It’s Rolf’s.”

  Bianca glanced up at me, her blue eyes studying me carefully. “Of course you can smell him here. He came into the shop yesterday to get inked. So did a lot of people.”

  I pointed through the shattered window at what had once been the leather massage table, now a broken pile of twisted metal, the fabric torn to ribbons. “This was done with serious muscle, and with claws. A shifter is responsible to this. And I’d be able to smell any shifter who came here. I’m telling you, there’s only been one.”

  “Can’t some shifters disguise their scent?” Elinor said. “I remember Luke saying that the shifter who attacked Anna had been able to do it.”

  “It’s pretty advanced magic. There cannae be that many shifters who would be able to pull it off.”

  “It’s a pretty serious accusation,” Elinor reminded me. “You want to be careful before you make an enemy of Rolf. You’ll be putting Caleb in an awkward position. He’s not going to be happy.”

  My stomach twisted. I knew it better than she did. But what choice did I have? If Bianca was in trouble, I had to act. “You don’t think Rolf did it? Who else could have?”

  Elinor held up her hands. “Calm down, man. I’m just trying to play devil’s advocate. I was a lawyer, remember? That’s what I do.”

  Bianca’s face was set in a hard line. She didn’t take her eyes off the carnage. Elinor grabbed the handlebars of Bianca’s bike, and started trying to lift the wheels into the boot of my car. “Confounded contraption,” she mumbled under her breath.

  “Here.” I took the bike off her and slotted it into the Lada’s boot, then opened the door for Bianca. She slid in, her face fixed with rage.

  “Take her home and calm her down,” Elinor said, patting my shoulder. “Hans stopped by before, so I know the house is mostly empty. Get her some scotch, she’s going to need it. I’ll deal with everything else, including talking to Caleb.”

  “I will. Thanks Elinor.”

  I slid into the seat and slammed the door shut behind me, giving the destroyed shop one last furious glance. How could Rolf do this to Bianca? And why? Had he heard us on the balcony last night and realised he didn’t have a chance? Was he one of those insane guys who couldn’t handle losing so he lashed out at the woman who shunned him?

  At least now you don’t have to worry about him winning Bianca over.

  Bianca didn’t say a word as we drove back through the village and out along the country road toward The Prim. “I’ll call Caleb as soon as we get back,” I said, as I pulled in the driveway. “I know Elinor said she’d do it, but I think it would be better if I … wait here in the car. I don’t want you to go inside until he leaves.”

  “Until who leaves?”

  “Rolf. I don’t know if he’s home, yet. He can’t stay with us anymore. I thought that would be obvious.”

  Bianca gave a hollow laugh. “Rolf didn’t do this.”

  “He did. He’s obsessed with you, Bianca. He put those flowers on your bed.”

  “He didn’t. I texted him to ask about them last night. He swears he didn’t.”

  “And you believe him?”

  “He doesn’t have any reason to lie. Besides, if he was obsessed with me, why would he destroy my shop? It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Then who else could it have been?”

  “I don’t know, Robbie!” Bianca yelled, throwing up her hands. “Some rogue wolf trying to stop
Caleb, some other rival pack who hate you guys because of a stupid ancient grudge. Hell, it could have been someone from within our own pack who secretly hates my guts, for all I damn-well know.”

  “Hey.” I reached across to her. “We’ll punish the person who did it, don’t you worry. We’ll just go in and grab your stuff and take you up to Ryan’s—”

  She turned away, pushing herself out of the car and slamming the door behind her. She stalked toward the house, her Docs kicking up a spray of pebbles from the drive.

  I buried my face in my hands. Why, just when things were going so well, did this have to happen? Why couldn’t Rolf just give it a rest?

  27

  Bianca

  My shop.

  The raw pain of seeing everything I’d built over the last five years torn to shreds cut through my body like a blade. My skin itched, like it was covered in open sores.

  I sat in the least lumpy chair in the drawing room, my feet on grandmother’s prized Turkish tea table, and a glass of scotch gripped in my shaking hand. I’d already sent two drams down to fuel my twisting stomach, and the few drops left in my current glass were about to join them.

  I hadn’t seen Robbie since I got home. He’d stormed through the house, searching for Rolf. But the big werewolf was still gone. Briefly, I wondered if that was an admission of guilt, but I just couldn’t believe Rolf had done this. He had a lot riding on the successful alliance with Caleb – it just didn’t make sense that he’d risk it all on a senseless act of destruction. Anyway, Robbie had headed out again, probably to look for him, so I guessed we’d find out sooner or later.

  If it wasn’t Rolf, then who did it?

  There was a knock at the door. I stared at the frowning portrait of Grandmother June above the fireplace, and poured myself another scotch. Maybe if I ignored them, they’d go away.