“How, exactly, am I supposed to afford this?” An embarrassed flush heated his neck even though Gee knew all the nasty details of his dire personal circumstances. His parents had cleaned out what little remained in their bank account and left town in a trail of debts and broken promises. No one had expected Ven to take on the debt burden, but he’d insisted, trading free labor to local businesses left short when the Thornes had fled. He’d spent a summer bussing tables at The Den to settle his father’s tab.
“The pack will provide the necessary funding. Drew and Ryker have reviewed all existing security protocols and deemed this a priority requirement. Once the station is up and running, you can use the proceeds to support yourself. The accommodation is basic, but it’ll keep your fur dry.” Gee spoke with real seriousness. Ven realized he’d been well and truly boxed into a corner. The decision had been made and he would either have to go along with it or hit the road.
If they allowed him to leave.
If they decided he was a threat to the pack, then the hole in the ground Ryker had spoken of would become a reality.
“I’ll have to deal with people, talk to them. All. Fucking. Day.” He groaned, knowing he’d agreed to accept the deal. Gee clapped him on the shoulder, nearly knocking him over in the process.
“I can’t wait.” The bear wore a shit-eating grin and Ven sighed deeply, he had no choice.
“I fucking hate you, Gee,” he snarled causing the bear to whoop with laughter as he lumbered off, following the path away from the clearing.
Chapter Two
Three months later.
Caitlyn Burrows bit her already raw bottom lip as she watched her mother stack sandwiches, fruit, and cold drinks into a large cooler on the kitchen counter. The bright, airy space, normally one of Caitlyn’s favorite spots in their sprawling house, felt oppressive and cold. She cast a longing gaze toward the cozy window nook in the corner where her latest book lay waiting for her and sighed. Why can’t they all just leave me in peace? Given half a chance, she could be content with her quiet existence. Between running the house and helping her brother’s mate, Hannah, look after her six-year-old daughter, Jessie, she barely snatched enough precious moments in her reading spot.
Marjorie Burrows had other ideas, though. In the seven months since the family had relocated to Los Lobos, there had little been time to think. They had reclaimed their family home and, with the concerted efforts of her husband and two sons, the damage from years of neglect had been put to rights. There were plans for an addition, which would accommodate her younger brother Caleb’s growing family. He and Hannah were expecting their first cub together. Their second, really, as Caleb claimed Jessie without reservation.
More plans involved a small house nearby for Bridie and Will, Hannah’s adoptive parents. Those were on the back burner while they focused all their energies on getting the restaurant on Main Street fixed up and ready for next month’s grand opening. Marjorie spent most of her waking hours there, helping her new best friends achieve their dream. Will and Bridie swore they were content with their room at the bed and breakfast and no one had time to do anything other than take them at their word.
All of which left Caitlyn running the house. She enjoyed the responsibility of keeping everything tidy and meals available for various weary family members as they trailed in the door. Omegas like Caitlyn thrived on caring for others, and she basked in the affection and praise the dominants heaped upon her.
Everyone in the family stood more dominant, even the human members, although she drew the line at Jessie. The little girl brought light and joy, spreading laughter wherever she went. Their daily walks to and from the little schoolhouse in town were part of Marjorie’s “get Caitlyn socializing” campaign. Eyeing the cooler her mother filled with food, Caitlyn suspected it might be another.
With the construction work on the restaurant mostly completed, her father, Stefan, and twin brother, Connor, had been tasked with assisting with the refurbishment of the gas station. Caleb couldn’t bear to be parted from his pregnant mate, so he remained at the restaurant, driving Hannah mad when he snarled at her for lifting anything heavier than a paper plate.
Somehow, Stefan and Connor had managed to leave the house without lunch. She rolled her eyes at the very idea. Clearly, Mom had recruited Dad to be part of her not so subtle plans, leaving Caitlyn facing a trip out to the gas station to make a delivery. She knew her parents loved her dearly. She only wished they would ease off on their attempts to prove she could live in Los Lobos in safety.
A shiver racked her willowy frame and she nibbled at the raw spot on her lip. She would never be able to associate the words Los Lobos and safety, not after what had happened all those years before. Magnum had forced himself upon Caitlyn when she’d been barely fifteen, leaving her with a bone-deep fear of men. Her family had fled the town, desperate to keep her out of his clutches. Ten years later, their guilt hung over Caitlyn, a malignant shadow she couldn’t dispel.
Rationally, she knew the threat of Magnum Tao had died when his son Drew killed him a year before in order to seize control of the pack. Few mourned him beyond a handful of depraved souls who’d thrived under years of chaos. The rest of the pack embraced Drew, grateful he’d released them all from those terrible years of fear and pain. Lost members had begun to return, her family included.
Drew Tao could not be more different than his father. She remembered the comfort and security she had felt when Drew had sworn she would be safe on pack lands.
Searching inside for the pack bonds tying her and the family to the alpha, she brushed against them mentally. A wash of warmth flowed in response, and she took a deep breath. It didn’t matter what time of day or night she sought the bond, reassurance always came.
Testing her other special link, the telepathic connection to her twin, she came up against a wall of silence. Connor had cut himself off from her again. It happened with increasing frequency, although she didn’t understand why.
With a sigh, she squared her shoulders and headed for the downstairs bathroom to tidy up. The dark smudges beneath her moss-green eyes served as a stark reminder of too many nightmares. She had inherited her mother’s coloring and red hair, unlike the males of the family who were all dark haired and gray eyed. Caitlyn drew her brush through her thick hair and smiled as the familiar routine soothed her jangling nerves. The thick curtain of hair was her only vanity and it hung down to graze against the small of her back. Impractical, but she didn’t care. With an ease born of long practice, she wove the mass into a thick braid between her shoulder blades.
Brushing away the dusting of flour, a remnant of baking hot rolls for breakfast, from her navy T-shirt, she checked her jeans for grass stains. Jessie had been practicing her wolf skills on the way to school and pounced on Caitlyn, the two of them falling to the ground in a tangle of limbs and laughter. With a final brush of her hand, she returned to the kitchen.
Marjorie tugged her close and she settled into her mother’s embrace. Her mom might have held on forever if Caitlyn hadn’t shifted her weight. With a wry laugh, Marjorie brushed a quick kiss on her temple and gathered her things. Huge purse slung over her shoulder, stylish bob swinging around her ears, her mother hesitated at the back door.
“I’ll be fine, Mom,” Caitlyn murmured.
“Of course you will, darling.”
The room felt empty without her mother’s vibrant presence; Marjorie was the beating heart of the Burrows family, the sun around which they all revolved. Knowing it would please her mom, if nothing else, Caitlyn screwed up her courage and lifted the cooler down from the counter. Her father and Connor shared a vehicle to work so one of the family four-wheel drives sat conveniently in the driveway for her.
Stowing the cooler in the flatbed of the truck, she hauled herself into the driver’s seat. At five feet ten, at least she could get in and out without assistance, unlike poor Hannah who had to be boosted up by Caleb to reach the passenger seat o
f his truck.
Resurfacing the rough pathway from home to the main drag through Los Lobos might be another item on the family “to do” list, but it was in a lot better shape than the road winding in and out of town. The truck bounced and jolted along the ruts. With a sigh of relief, she drew up in the weed-filled lot next to the gas station. She’d expected to see her father’s truck, but there were no other vehicles in sight. Maybe they parked around the other side.
After parking, she followed the bangs, crashes and cursing of a typical construction site echoing from the rear of what had been the small cashier’s office. The weight of the cooler kept her slightly off balance. She knew better than to enter a construction area so waited outside, calling a soft greeting through the doorway. The hammering stopped and a stranger appeared, his wide shoulders filling the frame and his hard face twisted in a scowl.
“What the fuck do you want?” he snarled and she backed up a few steps in the face of such hostility. The heavy cooler swung in her hand, making her stagger slightly.
She’d never seen anything like him in her life. Naked from the waist up, the slabs of muscle across his chest gleamed with sweat. Thick hair was pulled tight in a braid, not dissimilar to her own, but it shone as black as a raven’s wing. The dark hair and red-mahogany hue to his skin spoke of his Native American heritage, a common trait in parts of the Tao Pack. More arresting than handsome, his strong features looked carved in stone. Black eyes glared over his hawk nose, and the stubborn jut of his chin. A familiar bubble of panic built within her.
“I said, what the fuck do you want?” Sounding furious, he took a step toward her and she shrank, dropping the cooler as she raised her hands to ward him off. The box tipped over, spilling its contents across the scruffy lot, and the man swore again.
Stepping around the mess of food and drinks, he advanced rapidly and she caught his scent, amber and dark wood beneath a layer of fresh sweat. Her wolf, normally so quiet, surged forward, rubbing beneath her skin, straining to capture more of his intoxicating scent. Terror washed through her veins like ice at the realization she stood practically toe-to-toe with her mate. A very mean and angry-looking mate.
Never wishing to suffer at the hands of a cruel man again, she turned tail and ran as fast as she could. Plunging toward the relatively safety of the trees, she kicked off her shoes, dragging the rest of her clothes free as she fled.
Her wolf whined at her to stop, but Caitlyn pushed on into the heavy brush. She paused to shed her jeans and crouch, letting the shift take her over but making sure she retained enough control to force the wolf to keep running. The wolf howled, desperate to halt, to catch again the glorious scent of her mate and offer her throat in submission to his dominant presence.
A heavy crash behind her doubled her efforts to escape and her paws scrabbled over the soft ground, seeking purchase as she ran as though the hounds of Hell were on her heels. Risking a brief glance over her shoulder, an involuntary yip of fright loosed from her throat. An enormous gray wolf gained on her with every stride, the snarl on his face even more terrifying than the scowl he’d worn in his human form.
Another burst of speed had the ground flying beneath her paws, her wolf suddenly in accordance. Escape rather than submission became the animal’s new plan. Dodging around a massive pine tree, the trunk broader than her body, she pulled up short at the remains of a large fallen log blocking her path.
A snarl behind her set her in motion again, claws scratching at the bark as she desperately tried to clamber up and over the downed tree. The wood had rotted in places, and her front legs slid from under her as a huge set of jaws clamped around the thick fur at her scruff.
Frozen in horror, chest heaving she waited for the wolf to bite down, but the pain never came. Instead he tugged gently but firmly, coaxing her down from where she sprawled halfway over the huge trunk until her paws found purchase again. With a soft whine, she lowered to the ground, offering no resistance, hoping his dominant nature would sense the omega before him and protect rather than harm her.
Experience had too often taught her dominant wolves did not follow the natural order of things, but some behaviors were too ingrained to prevent.
The gray wolf released his hold and retreated a pace, taking her by surprise. She held her breath, not daring to raise her muzzle. His nose burrowed deep into the fur at her throat, sliding beneath her head until she had no choice but to rise up and meet his jet-black eyes.
Her wolf pushed toward the forefront of her mind as she stared in wonder at the magnificent creature. Their mate.
Strong. Fierce. Protector. The wolf whispered in her mind. She hoped her other half had better instincts when it came to males, because his sheer size terrified Caitlyn.
With a soft growl, he hunkered down, fur rippling as the shift took over until the formidable Native American man crouched before her. The fierce scowl which had set her running still twisted his features. She slunk down before him, curling up to present the smallest target she could manage.
“Change, Little Red,” he ordered, his harsh voice a shade softer than before.
She cowered. Her instincts were to obey her mate, her dominant, but, unlike him, she couldn’t shift while clothed and her T-shirt and jeans were strewn across the ground near the gas station. Whining softly, she tugged with her teeth at the leg of his jeans, hoping the man would understand.
A big hand stroked through her fur, a gentle surprise where a blow had been expected. He pushed to his feet with a sharp command to her to stay put, before loping off through the trees in the direction of the gas station.
Glancing around, she tried to get her bearings but, having never ventured far from the safety of the immediate area of her house, there were no familiar landmarks to help place her current location. She crawled around the fallen tree to the opposite side and forced her racing heart to calm enough to shift to her human form.
It seemed like her panicked dash had gone on for hours, but it must have been only a few hundred yards because she had barely finished her transition before she heard the man returning.
“Where the fuck did you go?” he demanded. She winced, ducking farther behind the tree trunk. He drew a deep breath and she knew he would have her location pinpointed instantly. Stretching up on tiptoe to peer over the trunk, she came eyeball to eyeball with his angry gaze.
Her clothes flew over the barrier between them. Most landed at her feet although her bra snagged on a branch and waved in the breeze, a white flag of embarrassed surrender. Clutching her T-shirt to her chest, she stretched up, tugged the offending garment free, and hooked it closed. The small triangles provided more modesty than support, and she sighed enviously at the thought of her sister-in-law’s goddess-like curves. Yanking her T-shirt over her head, she turned, stumbling in shock at the sight of the big man perched on top of the tree trunk. He had obviously climbed up while she dressed and gotten a good look at her naked body in the process, given the gleam in his eyes.
“You could have waited for me to finish dressing,” she said with as much outrage as she dared.
“Could’ve, but didn’t.” He sounded utterly unrepentant as he folded his arms across his huge barrel of a chest and looked her up and down. “I thought I might as well get a look at what the fates have in store for me and I might have known my shitty luck in life would continue. I can’t say I’m liking what I see, Little Red. You look like a good hard fuck would snap you in two.”
His crass words as much as the sharp sting of rejection shocked her to the core.
My mate is disappointed in me? Swallowing hard at the lump in her throat, she tried to ignore the prickle of tears behind her eyelids.
“I’m sorry if I am not what you wanted,” she whispered, hanging her head. She blinked hard hoping he wouldn’t see the glimmer of wetness there.
“Could you be any more fucking submissive?” he snarled, leaping down from the tree trunk to tower over her. “Fuck my life.”
&
nbsp; He grabbed her arm in a firm but unyielding grip. Knowing better than to struggle, she allowed him to tow her through the woods, hoping they were heading toward the gas station. A quick check of her pockets assured her the truck key hadn’t fallen out. She thumbed the cold of the metal. Given a chance, she could get free and make a dash for the truck. Something she should have done in the first place. Screaming for her father would have been better, but panic had blinded her to sensible actions at the time.
“What’s your name?” she asked quietly, hoping to distract the man with conversation.
“Ven.” The single word snapped out but he didn’t pause or look at her.
“I’m Caitlyn. Caitlyn Burrows,” she offered tentatively and he drew to a halt, spinning her to face him.
“Burrows? As in Stefan Burrows fucking daughter?” he yelled and she flinched, nodding slightly, her eyes cast to the ground away from his furious gaze.
“Well, that’s just fan-fucking-tastic!” Maintaining a bruising grip on her arm, he moved through the woods at an ever-quickening pace. Practically running to keep up with his long strides, she gasped in relief when they broke through the treeline into the weed-filled lot behind the gas station. Casting an eager glance over his shoulder, she willed her father or brother to appear.
“They’re not here,” he muttered, shattering her hopes of rescue. “Your dad went to Ogden’s mill for more lumber, took Connor with him."
Her back-up plan to wait for an opportunity to escape proved unnecessary when Ven shoved her hard in the direction of the truck.
“Go home, Little Red. I’m way too much Big Bad Wolf for you to handle.”
Chapter Three
Ven rolled his shoulders, raising his hand to massage the tension from the nape of his neck. It had been a long, dirty day at the gas station and the shower in the old trailer that came as part of the deal was useless. He’d stood under the lukewarm stream for ages scrubbing his skin clean, trying to get the oil and gas stink out of his hair.
A Mate's Redeeming Touch Page 2