The old lady sank back against the chair. “Your best may be good enough for sex, but that ain’t why you’re here. Tell me child…” she turned to Jordan, who had backed off and stood by the fireplace. “What ails your heart?”
Jordan shrugged. “I was forced into this marriage. It doesn’t matter.”
“No one forces anyone into anything, least of all a strong female like you.” Such sage observation made Nolan smile.
Jordan bristled. “It was marriage to him or prison.”
“Not a bad choice, mating with my grandson. Nolan’s a good alpha. Now his brother Bryce, he was a bad one.”
At Bryce’s name, Jordan stiffened. She turned toward the fireplace.
“Bryce was a bastard,” she burst out. “You’re the first person to admit it.”
Nolan wondered what Bryce had done to cause such an outburst. His brother had always vexed him. But Jordan never had a problem with Bryce.
“Tell me child what hangs heavy on your heart. I can feel the weight of your misery. It’s like a fog in here.” Meemaw beckoned to Jordan, who sat on the fireplace hearth. She let the old woman take her hand. Meemaw’s hands were paper white, the skin like velvet, blue veins roadmapping her frail flesh. But her spirit was strong and Nolan knew taking Jordan here was the best thing he could have done.
Jordan shrugged.
“You always were a feisty lil thing, even when you first came to us. You remember that?”
She nodded. “I don’t recall my folks, though. I have brief memories of living with wolves in the wild, and men with guns who hunted them. I guess that was my folks who hid me in the hollow of that tree to protect me from Skins finding me.”
“Then Tristan found you and brought you here. He said you were orphaned when Skins shot and killed your folks.”Meemaw sighed. “Times can be tough for our kind. But what you make of yourself after is your choice.”
Jordan’s lower lip wobbled. “I made the most of it. I… grew to love it in the pack. Sue was always good to me, like a real mother.”
“Then why did you run?”
Meemaw’s question made Jordan stiffen. “That’s something I can’t discuss.”
“Not with me. But you sure as darn hecky better talk with Nolan here or you’ll never be happy. Tell him, child. Get it out of your system before it eats you alive.”
“Yes m’mam,” she whispered.
Meemaw patted her hand. “Heard you stirred up quite a few things, too. You’re a strong one and don’t stand for much.”
Jordan stood, kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”
Nolan’s mother, Sue, gestured to the kitchen. “Jordan, lunch is almost ready. Would you like to help me?”
“Of course.” She glanced at MeeMaw and Nolan. “Please excuse me.”
When she trotted off to the kitchen, Nolan sank into the chair next to his grandmother. “After lunch, will you talk alone with her? She might confide in you. Woman to woman.”
His grandmother’s gaze sharpened. “Doubt it. That one has a heavy burden and she needs to share it with you, honey. Not this old body.”
“She won’t talk with me. She’s out of control, MeeMaw, wanting to break with tradition.”
“Traditions aren’t what make us, Nolan. Love does. Don’t be so determined to mimic your pa. He wasn’t perfect. Times change and you change, too.”
Nolan slowly absorbed this. “I’ve been running the pack since Dad died as best as I know how. You suggesting I stir things up, change everything? I don’t know if they’ll listen.”
“They’ll listen,” MeeMaw said in her croaking voice. She placed her thin hand over his and he felt alarm at how fragile she appeared.
Yet inside beat the heart of a strong female who had survived tragedy and challenges.
“You’re the alpha,” she reminded him.
“There are traditions I’m not fond of.”
“Then why keep them?”
“Because some days I feel like if I change things too much, the pack will slip through my fingers,” he admitted.
“Uh huh. Too much change all at once isn’t good for any community. But some traditions should be abandoned.”
“Such as?”
“Talk to your new mate. I’m sure she’ll know.” MeeMaw’s nose twitched. “Sue’s ham, gravy and fresh biscuits are calling me. Give an old wolf a hand, will you?”
He helped her into the kitchen, and onto a wide wood chair with a padded cushion. His grandmother sat with a heavy sigh and they began to eat.
Nolan remained silent throughout much of the meal. When his mother got up to serve more sweet tea, he turned to Jordan.
“Pixie, if you ran the pack, what traditions would you eliminate?”
Jordan paused, staring at him. She set her fork down. “Is this a trick question?”
“No,” he said quietly. “I really want to know. Here, in the privacy of my mother and grandmother’s home.”
Warmth filled him as he looked at both of them. “The two most important women in my life, next to you.”
She looked suspicious. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Well, you already know how I feel about being on the dais with you at meetings. Except you were pretty firm on not changing that.”
He nodded. Maybe her way of addressing it had irked him, but he agreed with her. “I never give ground to anyone challenging me in meetings. Not even my own mate.”
“Oh.” Jordan’s face fell. “I disregarded your authority in front of everyone. Didn’t realize it appeared that way.”
With Nolan fighting Palmer and Todd last month, her outburst at the meeting could have fueled the pair’s restless itch to take on Nolan once more. Would it always be like that, Nolan struggling to prove himself as strong of an alpha as his father?
Maybe that’s why Craig kept up the spring tradition of the alpha run. Maybe Craig himself was always trying to prove his strength.
“I’m sorry.”
“You could have told me in private,” he said gently. “Then we could have discussed it first. What else?”
“That tradition of spanking a youngster with a leather belt is stupid. Let the parents handle the discipline or the child will grow dependent on you instead of having his parents set the guidelines.”
Good advice. He’d always hated that tradition.
“And of course…” She glanced at his mother. “That asinine tradition of the alpha doing the spring run every year to prove he’s physically fit.”
His mother’s eyes filled with tears. “Yes. Nolan, please, get rid of that one. I can’t bear to lose you as well if something happened.”
Stopping that tradition would be hard. “If I end it, the pack will think I’m weak.” He flexed his arms.
“You’re 28 years old, Nolan, not in your seventies like your poor fool pa,” MeeMaw snapped. “Lupines aren’t even elderly until they live past 200 years. Your pa was still a spring chicken, but he was too proud.”
“No one could call him weak,” Nolan pointed out.
“If anyone thinks you’re weak, beat him up.”
He grinned. “Love you, MeeMaw.”
She harrumphed. “You’re the alpha now. Make new traditions. Have a challenge each spring so the foolish young bucks itching to move up in the pack will fight each other and the winner fights you. You can easily win. You’re a Mitchell and Mitchell’s ain’t fools, and they ain’t weak.”
Nolan glanced at Jordan. “Are you okay with that?”
She sounded uncertain. Nolan went to her, took a knee and then slid his hand into hers.
“Listen, pixie. I want to do what it takes to make this marriage work, and make the pack strong. I can’t do it alone. Will you help me?”
Her gaze softened. “Of course I will. I want you to succeed, Nolan. Never wanted anything else for you.”
Jordan’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I do want to be a good alpha female mate for you. Just as long as I can be at your side as you rule.�
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The kiss he pressed into her palm was gentle, lingering. Then he licked her palm and winked.
“As long as you’re under me naked in bed, that’s fine with me.”
Jordan blushed and MeeMaw laughed. Then a spark ignited her eyes. “I think I can stay on top of that situation,” she sassed him back.
Nolan grinned, tapping her nose. “Let’s wrestle for it.”
“That’s just like a Mitchell. Go on now, git you two, and find a room. Make me a great-granny before I pass from this life.”
As they drove away, waving good-bye, his spirits lifted. Surely now things would be all right between himself and his mate.
Maybe now Jordan would finally confide in him what had happened to her. Because he needed her badly.
He hoped she needed him as much.
11
Later that afternoon, as Nolan met with his security team to map out areas where the pack would run tomorrow, she slipped out of the lodge.
Nolan had promised to make changes to the pack. Because of those promises, she needed to do her own part.
Running at his side during the full moon hunt was a good start.
Shifting had never come easy to Jordan. As a youth, the swift transition that Nolan enjoyed had always been slow agony for her.
The pack had blamed it on her inexperience and age.
Now the pack would give her no excuses.
She had to do this. If she didn’t shift to run with Nolan beneath the moon, the pack would lose respect for her, and consequently, lose respect for Nolan. After seeing him challenged in the vineyard, Jordan knew Nolan could defend his place as alpha, but any weakness and the younger Lupines would jump all over him like water on hot grease.
Jordan hiked down to the ponds, where the forest grew thick and wild. Nolan had forbade her to be alone, but she had no friends to bring with her and let them know her defect.
I’ll run for a short while, practice, and be back before Nolan notices I’m gone.
Taking a deep breath, she focused. Thought of the forest, the freedom her wolf afforded.
The power.
A tingling rushed down her spine. Jordan closed her eyes and centered herself, focusing on that tingle of magick, seeing it grow and expand until it exploded.
Pain raced along her nerve endings as her human body fought the shift. Gritting her teeth she rode through it, and stretched out her arms.
Bones lengthened and her muscles stretched, but the excruciating agony didn’t follow.
Jordan opened her mouth to scream with glee. A howl came out instead.
Still grinning, she stretched on all fours, then shook her body, relishing the feel of muscles and strength. Jordan bolted up the pathway, her senses reeling. Smell, sight and hearing doubled.
Ears pricked forward, she raced up the hillside, following an old scent trail of a rabbit. Maybe the creature had left, but a good chase was exactly what her wolf needed right now.
Up ahead, a strange orange glow flickered through the trees. Not the warmth of sunshine dappling the oaks and maples, but something more sinister.
Her wolf scented the smoke before she saw it. Jordan halted, her nose in the air, her fur on end.
Wolf and human knew this was bad, oh, so very bad.
The blue sky overhead held no hint of indigo storm clouds. This smoke came not from natural sources.
Quiet.
She heard footsteps crunch in the dead material littering the floor, detected the snap of a breaking twig.
Whoever set this fire was still there. Jordan paced slowly, using all her dormant wolf senses to creep with stealth through the forest.
Just like the games you and Nolan played when you first shifted. Stalk the prey. Quiet. Don’t let them know you are here.
The acrid stench grew thicker. She ducked behind a tree and watched as the orange glow flickered stronger, and heard a muttered curse.
“There. Got it. That’ll teach that bastard Nolan,” the strange voice said.
Male or female? She couldn’t tell, for the accent was odd and the smoke made it impossible for her to distinguish an individual scent. If only Nolan were here!
She had no cunning to stop this, no strength. But teeth and claws were good weapons.
She must stop this person before they set the entire forest on fire.
Jordan crept closer, saw the campfire glowing bright, flames licking at the debris piled on the forest floor. No innocent human roasting hot dogs, but a hard-faced man with a cruel expression as he blew on the flames, and then stepped back.
He looked up. Jordan ducked back, her wolf urging discretion, but the human inside her filled with shock.
The man was none other than Adam, the Harlow beta wolf she’d seen flirting with Erica at the winery.
A small red can was behind him.
Her nose pricked. Gasoline. If he doused the trees, the fire would spread quickly.
As the man started back for the can, she raced forward. No snarl of warning, no sound at all as she zeroed in on Adam’s left calf.
Jordan bit hard. He toppled, giving an unearthly howl of his own.
He tried to beat at her with his hands. Her teeth sank deeper. Must not let go.
If she did, he’d get the gas and she’d be roasted in minutes.
With all her strength, she began dragging the screaming Adam backward, away from the fire, in the direction of the lodge.
Voices sounded down the hill. Good. Someone had seen the smoke.
Too busy looking backward as she dragged her catch, she didn’t see the rock in Adam’s hand. It hit her just below her ear. She opened her mouth in a howl of surprised pain.
Bleeding, cursing, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a switchblade. Sunlight glinted on the steel blade as it snapped open. Jordan snarled at him.
The voices came closer, and with them, dozens of glowing lights. The Fae had seen the fire, and arrived to extinguish it.
The man shoved the knife back into its sheath, and ran through the forest. Jordan followed him, but he passed the fire as he ran past.
Had to keep that gas from reaching the flames. She shifted back into Skin, and gasped at the pain in her head. Jordan grabbed the gas can and ran a few feet from the fire. Through the trees she saw the sprites extinguish the fire, spreading a mist that snuffed out the flames.
Summoning all her strength, she clothed herself through magick and slumped against a tree.
Nolan, Sam and a few others rushed into the clearing, saw her there.
Sam’s eyes narrowed. Nolan’s mouth flattened.
Before she could speak, he pointed to her. “Jordan, what are you doing with that gas can?”
Her mate. Her husband. Her accuser.
Nolan couldn’t believe his eyes. He didn’t want to.
Jordan, gas can in hand, a fire flickering nearby. Guilty expression.
“Caught in the act,” Sam said quietly, for Nolan’s ears only.
Nolan scowled. “Help the Fae put out the fire and establish a perimeter. I want patrols increased.”
Sam’s gaze narrowed. “You’ll have to pull every able guy off the grapevines.”
“Do it.”
Jordan hadn’t moved, merely stood there clutching the gas can as if it were a life raft. The smell of fuel clung to her, making him nauseated.
Or maybe that was the smell of utter betrayal turning his stomach.
He strode over to her, took the can from her trembling hand.
Her mouth opened and closed. “Nolan, I didn’t do it. But I know who did. Adam Morton from the Harlow pack.”
Standing nearby, Sam turned. “The Harlow beta? That’s a lie, Nolan.”
“It’s the truth. I saw him when I was in wolfskin. He intended to burn the entire forest.”
“Bull,” Sam snapped. “Nolan and I were just meeting with him and Brandon.”
Jordan’s gaze widened. Nolan felt a fresh wave of anger and grief.
He waved his hand, indicating
for Sam to pipe down. He didn’t need a scene.
“Quiet down Sam,” he ordered. “Get to work and stop yammering.”
Taking her arm, he marched Jordan down the hill, sticking to the path. Sam would take care of the fire, formally thanking the Fae and ordering patrols.
Only he could handle this with Jordan.
Nolan locked up the gas can in the storage shed below the lodge and made sure to change the combination. Later, he’d test it for scent markers.
“Upstairs. You smell like gas. Go shower,” he ordered.
For once she didn’t argue, but trudged upstairs. He waited, pacing in their bedchamber.
Sam was right. Jordan lied. He and Sam were having sweet tea with Brandon and Adam on the porch, discussing a truce when Sam had spotted the smoke.
No Lupine could be in two places at once.
Why did she blame Adam? Was Jordan trying to stir trouble? Did she intend to set the woods alight, or call in for help at the last minute, and then blame their ancient enemies?
Sinking onto the love seat, he buried his head in his hands. Leading the pack had presented challenges he’d never anticipated. He’d survived the past two years since his father’s death by sticking to established rules and ruthlessly quashing dissension.
But being mated to Jordan turned his orderly world upside down.
The bathroom door open. Steam misted the air as she emerged, fully dressed. Red hair damp, framing her face.
Gods she looked so young. And scared.
Steeling himself, he stood and went to the fireplace to begin the unpleasant task awaiting him.
Interrogation.
And if she was guilty?
Banishment.
12
Nolan’s expression stated her fate. He didn’t believe her. Twisting her hands, she walked to the love seat and sat, trying to hide her fear.
Somehow, she had to convince him of her innocence. At least he’d given her the chance to come clean in one way. The hot water had not only refreshed her, but fed her strength as she washed away the stench of gas and smoke.
Jordan gripped her hands, and looked Nolan straight in the eye. She had given her body to this wolf in the dark night, had tangled in passion with him, shared laughter and tears. Over the past two weeks, she thought they’d had a chance as they’d grown closer.
WILD WOLF: Werewolves of Montana Book 12 Page 13