by J. K Harper
To the oldest ruins, her human whispered. My favorite.
Yes. The crumbling, tumbling down rock ruins of ancient homes for the people who used to live here. They scratched things into the rock, dug storage holes down into the earth, and left their bones behind to turn brittle under the weight of the dry sands. She enjoyed slipping into their sites, alone and lonesome but for the ghosts they'd maybe left behind. Not that she'd ever seen a ghost. Even so, she'd heard things some nights that didn't account for owls or coyotes or small animals like mice or squirrels. It was most likely her human's imagination—her human snorted at that—but the ruins were still very intriguing.
I wonder if Tate would like them as much?
Claire silently loped along, thinking of the male wolf who captured her interest so strongly she could hardly think of anything else the past few weeks. No matter how she tried to turn her mind to other things, such as working on her next book, or ignoring the phone calls of her ex, or mulching her sparse garden, his face would slowly drift into her mind. The perpetual laugh, the kindness in his chocolatey hazel eyes, the strength of his sinewy body, the expression on his face when he'd claimed her body as much as she'd claimed his—the images would form in her thoughts until she suddenly found herself panting.
She wondered what his wolf looked like.
Strong and lean and gentle. Her human imagined a dark gray wolf with amber eyes like her own. Her white pelt would show brightly next to his.
Claire ran on, pulling the desert scents into her nose as the miles disappeared under her steady paws. Sharp sagebrush, a whiff of hackberry, the soft, lazy smell of the puffy bright yellow flowers, the ones that blanketed arroyos and lined the sides of the highway cutting through far to the east behind her.
Rubber rabbitbrush, her human thought, picturing the yellow flowers.
Claire shrugged away the thought. Unless the plant hid real rabbits beneath it, she didn't need to know those details. All she needed to know was the sliding movement of her muscles under her coat, the strength of her legs as they carried her through this quiet landscape, and the certainty that the quiet, gentle, wildly sexy wolf she'd met the other day was part of her destiny. Even if she didn't understand why, she knew the truth of that down to the tip of her tail.
A coyote's mournful howl pierced the late night air. Claire abruptly pulled up and stood still, breathing hard but evenly. She listened for more voices. One by one, the other coyotes in their small pack joined in, yipping and barking until the full-fledged howls left their snouts and spiraled up into the air. She sat firmly on the sand. Here, she was so far off from any human habitation no one could hear her. Even if they did, none would believe their ears. Pointing her muzzle at the sky, she opened her mouth and loosed a long, singing howl of her own, crying deep into the dark night.
The coyotes immediately hushed. A silence even deeper then the one already holding the night fell over the desert as Claire's voice rang out, echoing off the cliffs of the nearby canyons. She could sense all living creatures within earshot of her keeping their own mouths shut, not moving a muscle as the cry of an arctic wolf howled across the desert lands. No one else would dare share their presence when they knew she was there.
No one, that is, except another wolf. A long, soft howl answered hers from far up the canyon opening ahead of her. Pricking up her ears, Claire howled back in answer before leaping forward again, racing toward the other wolf.
She hadn't seen her mother in nearly half a year.
***
“Your mate, really? Tate!” Lily jumped across a small sagebrush bush to grab up Tate in a hug. “Are you sure? I'm so thrilled for you. Oh, you have no idea,” she said, joy spilling over in her voice as she cast a quick glance at Kieran, who smiled back at her. She pulled back and critically regarded her brother for a moment. “I thought it might take longer for you to meet your mate, actually. You've just always seemed the most balanced of us all.”
Tate smiled. By “us all” she meant them and their siblings. The eldest, Rafe, was balanced enough, but he'd seemed too aloof for a mate. Until Sara finally tamed him, of course. Caleb—well, it had been a surprise that any woman could handle his graceless wild side, but sweet Rielle was actually the best thing that had ever happened to him. And Lily. For a few years, everyone had worried about her after a devastating tragedy had caused her to shy away from anything to do with men or much else. When Kieran had shown up, he'd been the perfect answer to helping Tate's sister find her smile again.
He shrugged. “I wasn't really sure what it would feel like. But the second I scented her, I just knew. I've never felt anything quite like that before, actually,” he added, hearing the wonder creep into his voice again.
He'd been out on patrol with Lily and Kieran for the past several hours. It was late at night now, and there was a definite bite to the wind in the mountains above the den. Fall was completely present at the higher elevations. Even with his human nose, he could smell the promise of the colder months already hovering at the heels of autumn. He wouldn't be surprised if snow began to dust the flanks of the mountains in the next few weeks. It wasn't uncommon here for snow to first appear at the higher elevations during October.
Despite being focused on his Guardian work now, after his mild chastisement from his Alpha earlier, images of Claire kept drifting in and out of his mind all day. He saw her laughing face, caught a whiff of her scent, clean and sharp and wild like the snow he predicted would soon appear. The reality of her existence teased him to distraction. There was something about her life she wasn't yet convinced she could share with him, unless he proved himself worthy of making the effort. That, and he sensed she'd been burned by whomever she'd dated last. She wanted to make sure Tate wouldn't do the same.
Never, his wolf's low, certain voice rumbled deep inside. She is mine.
Yes. As soon as he found her again, that is.
“So why do you think she wouldn't mention what pack she's from?” Kieran asked, echoing the question that most tugged at Tate. “From what you've told us so far, she's not from any of the nearby packs, but she lives somewhere around here. Or out more in the desert?”
“I got the sense she lives on her own, so probably not at any pack den.” Tate paused to reach down and grab for his clothes near the car. They'd just finished their patrol in wolf form and were about to head back to the den for the night. “But the only packs I can think of whose boundaries touch ours say they've never heard of her. Even knowing her last name has to be a pseudonym for her books, none of the wolves I've talked to know a wolf by her description. Wouldn't Dad tell us if there was a lone wolf living nearby?” he asked Lily.
His eyes, still keen from his wolf, could see his sister shrug in the darkness. “Not if he didn't think we needed to know,” she said. “Besides, I'm sure all the packs that have lone wolves have called them in anyway. Especially a female. There'd be too much danger in the rogues trying to take her.”
Lily's voice darkened with her last words. Tate sensed the protective growl coming from Kieran despite his human form. As a Guardian, Lily could take care of herself. But if she were faced up with a group of rogues looking for females, she wouldn't be able to put up a fight for long. A lone female wolf, one who wouldn't have the training a Guardian did, wouldn't stand a chance.
Lone wolves chose a life spent not directly in the melee of a pack. As such, they usually lived on the outskirts of pack boundaries. Although generally loyal to and protected by their packs, they held no significant pack roles, such as Guardian, or historian, or medic, and they had the choice of either joining another pack that would take them in, or remaining lone for the entirety of their lives. Often weaker than most pack members or pushed out due to hierarchy issues, lone wolves were extremely rare.
They also almost never found a mate.
Tate frowned as he carefully thought this out. Claire was definitely not a lone wolf. She was too confident, had too much of a sense of self. She definitely wasn't weak. And he knew w
ith every fiber of his being she was his mate.
“Earth to Tate.” Lily playfully snapped her fingers in front of his nose. “This is why I made the bet with Kieran. I had a hunch even the most amazing horse in the world couldn't distract you as much as the most amazing woman in the world could.”
On that sly note, she opened the door to the car and slipped into the front passenger seat.
Kieran eyed Tate over the roof of the car before opening his door. “Truer words were never spoken, my friend. We've got to help you find her. Trust me when I say life won't be the same until you do.”
“I'm getting that,” Tate said ruefully. “Earlier today I forgot about a client appointment I have tomorrow morning. I would have been a no-show if they didn't call me to ask a question about what part of the training we'd be working on.”
“When it comes to the right woman, you might just forget your own name at times,” Kieran said softly before he slid into the car beside his own right woman.
As they drove down the curving road back toward the den, Lily continued to pepper Tate with questions. What were the names of Claire's books? Did she remind him of any neighboring pack members? Where exactly had he looked for her so far? Even though he'd asked himself those same questions over and over for the past two weeks, he eagerly answered, hoping she'd come up with a new insight he hadn't been able to see.
“Maybe she's a cousin from a pack that's farther away?” Lily's voice was thoughtful as she turned over the possibilities in her head. “Maybe she's visiting.”
“She said she could smell the desert of home on me,” Tate replied. “I'm positive she lives here somewhere.”
“She lives down in the desert, you mean,” Kieran interjected. “She's got to live near Cortez, where you first scented her.”
“Then why have none of us ever scented her before? It's not like none of us ever go over that way.” Tate blew out a slightly frustrated breath. “How is it that none of us knows about her existence if she lives so close to us? We know every wolf who lives within two hundred miles of here.”
He didn't think it was possible he could have lived here all his life and not met Claire yet. Unless maybe mates were only meant to meet when they were ready to meet. Kind of like how certain horses came into his life to be trained at just the right time. The ones that were fearful, or shy, or had been abused by heavy hands and needed a new, light start.
Not, of course, that he was comparing Claire to a horse. His wolf snorted, plainly disgusted with that line of thought. Claire was a sleek, dangerous predator like him.
“The part I really don't get,” Kieran said, sounding both puzzled and troubled, “is how she's able to be by herself in public. As far as I know, all the packs within five hundred miles and more are using the rule of three for their own wolves as well.”
Tate nodded, more to himself since they couldn't see him from the front seat. “That's been really bugging me, too. I can't imagine a pack whose alpha would let that rule slide. Even if the rogues haven't been spotted in months.”
“You didn't ask her?” Kieran questioned.
Tate shook his head, smiling a bit as images of him and Claire sweaty on the bed rocketed through his mind again. “Didn't get that far in our conversation.” Before his sister could make a teasing comment on that, he added, “And there's something she'd just hiding. I didn't want to ruin the moment, to be honest. Besides,” he hesitated for a moment, then confessed, “my wolf was close to out of control around her. Had to deal with one thing at a time.”
Over Lily's triumphant “A-ha! She is definitely your mate,” Kieran said with confidence of a man who knows, “There are definitely some things that need to be handled before any other situations can be addressed.”
Tate let a grin tug up his mouth. “Apparently. Though I wish to hell I could figure out why she's being a little cat-and-mouse about it all. I've never felt anything like that connection, and I know she felt it, too. But there's some kind of wariness there I don't think I've encountered from another shifter.”
Silence blanketed them for another several miles along the curving, dark road back to the den. Until, several miles later, Lily's thoughtful voice broke it. “Wait,” she said slowly. Tate could practically hear the gears turning in her head. “What if actually we don't know every wolf who lives near us?”
Kieran flipped his high beams on and off at an oncoming car whose own brights were still on. “The only ones that could ever be anywhere near that we didn't know or couldn't find out about would be rogues. And she can't be a rogue.”
Only male wolves were rogues. They took unwilling female wolves to mate and start new, desperate packs.
“No, of course not a rogue.” Lily turned her head toward her brother in the back seat. “Tate. How much do you know about wild wolves?”
***
Melle sat patiently at the old ruin, waiting for her daughter. Claire wiggled and danced and pranced as she ran up to and around her, touching noses and rubbing her head along the face of the wolf who had birthed and raised her.
“I've missed you.” Wolves didn't speak like humans did, but their own method of speaking, mostly with body language, made them very clear to one another.
“I knew that. I felt you needing me from far away.”
Ever since Melle had left, she and Claire had shared what was close to a psychic bond. Claire didn't begin to understand it, but she accepted it without question. When she was particularly sad, or lonely, or simply deeply missing the one and only wolf who'd been a constant in her life, her thoughts somehow alerted Melle, who always came. It might not be for weeks or even a few months, but she always returned to the canyons when her daughter needed her.
“Play?” Claire asked. Before Melle could answer, Claire darted away, leaping behind a low wall made by long-dead human hands.
With the wolfish equivalent of a laugh, Melle gave chase. They raced down hills, behind small pinyon trees, beneath the cliff walls with the old designs and markings on them made by the people who once called this place their home. The moonlight chased them as well, slowly arcing its way westward.
After a long time of enjoying racing around, Claire finally stopped, settling atop a small hillside that gave them a view of the canyons and valleys stretching out around them. Melle sat beside her, nose tipped into the air, sniffing.
“They're not here any longer. Good.” Despite these words, Melle still surveyed the wide spaces around them for any hint of danger.
“I haven't scented them for a long time now.” Claire wrinkled her nose, baring her teeth a little. Strange wolves had wandered her canyons for some time earlier this year. She'd discovered from the alpha of the local pack that they'd been rogue wolves who might have unpleasant intentions for her if they ever found her. “They never bothered me, anyway. You told me to always cover my scent. I still do.”
“Rogues are smart because they are desperate,” Melle reminded her. “Never forget that.”
“Never.” Claire lightly shoulder-bumped the other wolf. “You taught me well.”
Melle settled into the earth, laying her head on her paws as she kept half her watchful attention on the landscape around them. The rest of her focus was on her daughter.
“So. Tell me why I came all the way here to you.”
Taking a deep breath, Claire told her about her progress on her book and her most recent reading. Then, still quivering with the intensity of it, she told her about meeting Tate. Not all the details, of course. Wolf or not, she wasn't going to share that much with her mother. But Melle would figure it out anyway.
“I've never felt that way before,” Claire concluded. “He's somehow part of me? But I don't understand.” Even just thinking about him brought a shiver of anticipation to her fur, rippling down along her spine. “I want to be with him. I almost want to go to his pack and find him and talk to him more.”
She paused, but Melle patiently waited.
“But my human wants him to find me instead. To prov
e something.” Aggravated, she whined. Her human laughed deep inside her, though a note of wariness was shot through the sound.
“Your human is too bound by thoughts,” Melle said. “Thoughts can trap us.”
Claire heaved another sigh and flopped down onto her stomach. Small pebbles and sand crunched beneath her weight as she wallowed her belly into the ground. Mimicking the wolf beside her, she lay her head on her paws and watched the vast, silent desert around them.
“But you need your human side. You aren't like me,” Melle said gently.
Claire hadn't seen Melle shift into human since she was very young. In fact, the other wolf no longer could. Any shifter near her would think she was a natural-born wolf. All traces of her shifterness were gone, as far as Claire could tell, except the fact she knew perfectly well she'd been a shifter, and could communicate with Claire as easily as ever.
It was a choice she'd never wanted Claire to follow, but one she'd said was right for her. She'd never said why exactly, but Claire knew it had something to do with the native pack they'd fled when Claire was extremely young.
“Listen to your head, but act by your instincts.” Something knowing and pleased touched Melle's voice.
Claire's tail lashed the ground in some confusion. “Why do I want to be around him so much? It's as if I can feel him tugging at me. Even from here.”
Her mother tilted back her head and sent a single, soft howl echoing through the air. Claire sensed every living creature within a mile of them hold its breath and stay motionless. After the echo of the howl ended, Melle tipped her nose into Claire's side and tenderly nudged her. Then she sat back on her haunches and rocked Claire's world with her next utterance.
“Because he is your mate. You have found your mate, and nothing will be the same until you accept him as yours.”