White Wolf Mate (Silverlake Shifters Book 2)

by Anastasia Wilde

  Instantly, he had six rifles trained on him. He stood his ground, weapon at the ready. The leader barked, “Come down from there.”

  Rafe gave the man his cockiest grin. “Seriously?” he asked. “I don’t think so. See, up here I have cover. If it were necessary—which I hope it won’t be—I could pick you off one by one from behind these rocks, while you would have a hell of a time trying to shoot me. Of course, you could take refuge in the cave, but then you’d be trapped.”

  The man kept his eyes on Rafe, clearly running scenarios in his head. He was obviously a professional. Military trained? Despite the cocky attitude he’d adopted, Rafe didn’t like the looks of this at all.

  Finally, the leader lowered his rifle. The others lowered theirs too—but not much.

  “We have no beef with you,” the leader said.

  “So glad to hear it,” Rafe said. “So, since this is a friendly chat and we’re getting to know each other like the bros I know we’ll be one day, I’ll ask again. What the fuck are you doing here?”

  The man’s eyes narrowed, but he answered politely enough. “We’re tracking a white wolf that’s been seen in this part of the woods. Talked to some yahoos at a local bar who claim they saw a ‘ghost wolf’ on a stretch of road near here, couple of nights ago.” He snorted. “Like it was a fucking harbinger of death or some shit. Said it killed some guy on a motorcycle. We found the crashed bike in a ravine off the road, but no body. So I guess the reports of his death were greatly exaggerated.”

  Not that exaggerated. Rafe knew that if he’d been human, he would have been dead. Even with his shifter abilities, he had the feeling it had been touch and go there for a while.

  “Huh,” he said to the man. “Pretty wild story, if you ask me. So you’re like, animal ghostbusters? Cool.”

  The guy snorted again. “That wolf’s no ghost. It’s real, and we’ve been tasked to stop it.”

  That was wrong on a bunch of levels. Rafe raised his eyebrows. “Stop it from doing what? And tasked by whom, exactly? Notice how I used the word whom. It shows my education and knowledge. And one of the things I know is that hunting of all kinds is illegal on this land. I could tell you exactly how many laws you’re breaking by bringing your dogs and your guns and your ghostbusters here, if you give me a minute to do the math.”

  He paused, then shook his head in mock regret. “Nope, sorry. Too big a number to add up in my head.”

  “The wolf’s a killer,” the guy said. “Killed some livestock, and possibly even a couple of people.”

  “By running their cars off the road?” Rafe asked. “Or by scaring them to death?”

  “Mauling them,” the man said.

  Rafe raised his head and sniffed the air. He didn’t even need the scent of the man’s adrenalin to know that was a complete lie. He had a sudden uncomfortable feeling. Did they know the white wolf was a shifter? Was that why they were supposedly hunting an animal, and yet had approached the cave like there was a dangerous, intelligent human inside?

  His insides went cold.

  “Well, I haven’t seen any wolves, ghosts or otherwise,” he said. “And I’ve been here awhile.”

  “Really,” the man said skeptically. “Just hanging out in this cave?”

  “Living off the land,” Rafe said. “See, I’m considering becoming a hermit. Like in those old stories? Gonna get me a brown robe and sit in my cave in silence. Contemplating. That is, if I can keep people from coming around and annoying me with guns and dogs and bullshit stories.”

  “A hermit,” the hunter said. “That’s cute.”

  “I know, right?” Rafe said. “So why don’t you just leave me to my adorable contemplation, and then I won’t have to shoot you, or even report you to the authorities for illegal hunting on protected land. Everybody wins.”

  They hesitated, and he tapped his gun on the rock meaningfully before aiming it once more at the leader. His voice went hard, and he channeled into it as much alpha energy he had. Not as much as Jace, but enough. “Don’t make me ask you twice.”

  The dogs felt his inner authority, and began whining and pulling on their leashes—away from him. He could see the resolve of some of the men wavering, too. The leader was a human alpha, and not intimidated by Rafe, but he was smart enough to sense his men losing their desire for the hunt.

  Once again Rafe could see the wheels turning in his mind, running scenarios, deciding whether to attack or retreat. Finally, he made a brief gesture to his men. They lowered their weapons.

  “Enjoy your ‘contemplation,’” the man said with a mock salute. “Hopefully, we won’t see each other again.”

  “Likewise, I’m sure,” Rafe said.

  They backed up until they were out of handgun range, still watching him, as if he might really shoot them in the back as they left. Which told him what kind of men they were—the kind who would shoot you in the back with no warning, and assumed everyone was like them.

  He watched them until they disappeared into the woods, then remained, scenting the air, until he was sure they were really gone.

  He wondered why they were hunting the ghost wolf—his white angel. What had she done? Had she really killed a human? Why did she live as a lone wolf?

  He’d been subconsciously debating whether to try to find her, or leave her as a beautiful fantasy in his mind. But she needed to be warned. He knew she wasn’t the kind of killer that the hunters had claimed she was. She wouldn’t have gone to all that trouble to rescue him if she was. And if she were a rogue wolf, it would be other shifters hunting her down. Not humans.

  He went back into the cave, stripped, and packed the clothes into his saddlebags. If he was going to track the ghost wolf to her lair, he was better off doing it as a wolf.

  The saddlebag had a special strap so that he could carry it in wolf form. He ducked his head into the loop and shook himself until the bag settled across his shoulders. Then he loped out of the cave and prepared to track his angel home.

  Chapter 6

  Terin was working in the garden outside her cabin. Normally she loved the orderly rows of herbs and vegetables, the feeling of the warm earth between her fingers, the smell of the growing plants. She loved her tidy cabin with its big double porch swing, and the hammock strung between two trees that was perfect for reading. She loved the quiet, with only the sounds of nature surrounding her.

  But today it seemed too quiet. She couldn’t stop thinking about the man in the cave. Was he all right? Had he woken up? Had she left him too soon, or had he healed and found his way home?

  She let her fingers graze her breast. She couldn’t stop thinking about the way she’d felt when he touched her. Not just the rush of heat, but the connection she’d felt to him. Almost as if she could feel what he was feeling—the bright places inside him and the broken places, and how they could be made whole.

  When he’d thanked her, he’d gently taken her hand and kissed it. She could feel his lips on the tender skin of her wrist, the way he’d treated her like something precious. For a moment, she let herself wonder what it would be like to be with someone who treated her like that. But then she remembered how Ben had looked at her when he saw the monster in her, and was glad that she’d never have to see that look on the face of the man she’d rescued.

  She’d started a new painting last night. A dark wolf, like she’d painted before. But he was surrounded by stars, and colors like the northern lights. She didn’t know if the light was coming out of him, or funneling into him. It wasn’t finished yet.

  But she sensed her rescued wolf had colors inside.

  She shook her head. She’d never know. All she would ever see of him would be on canvas.

  She went back to her weeding, and then froze. She was being watched. There was a prickle beneath her shoulder blades, and the hair on the back of her neck was standing up.

  Slowly she turned her head. At the edge of the forest, where it met the cleared land around her cabin, stood a huge black wolf. He blended into t
he shadows so well he would be almost invisible to someone without shifter vision.

  Her mouth went dry. He was gorgeous, even more beautiful than her painting.

  He stood motionless, staring at her, and she stared back. She knew who it was. She could feel him. But how had he found her? And why had he come looking?

  As she watched, his body seemed to melt and rearrange itself. She was fascinated; she’d never seen someone change before. In moments, he was crouched on the ground in human form.

  When he stood up she caught her breath. As beautiful as he was as a wolf, he was even more beautiful as a man. He was stark naked, bronzed, with that broad chest and those rippling abs, and long, strong legs. She couldn’t keep her eyes from the nest of hair between his legs, where his thick cock rested.

  She saw a flush come to his face, and he stepped behind a shrub, his carry bag in his hand. A few minutes later he came out, dressed, tucking in his shirt.

  She sat, unmoving, as he walked across the yard to the edge of the garden, his eyes on her the whole way.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” she said. Her voice felt husky from disuse. When was the last time she’d talked to anyone? “I’ve already seen you naked.”

  Oh, crap. The first thing she’d said to anyone in weeks, and it was about him being naked. What was wrong with her?

  He didn’t seem to mind, though. He shrugged, a grin curling the corner of his mouth. “You do talk.”

  “Not very often,” she admitted. “Talking is overrated.”

  The grin deepened, and his eyes sparkled. “I’ve tried to tell that to many women in my time. Usually they don’t believe me.”

  “Usually you’re trying to get them into bed, I imagine,” she said.

  He looked unrepentant. “Well, yeah,” he said, like it was obvious.

  They fell silent, staring into each other’s eyes. Somehow Terin couldn’t bring herself to look away, and it seemed like the man couldn’t either.

  She couldn’t keep calling him ‘the man,’ though.

  “What’s your name?” she asked.

  “Oh,” he said, looking blank, as if it hadn’t occurred to him she didn’t know. “Rafe.”

  “Rafe,” she repeated. “I’m Terin.”

  “Nice to meet you,” he said politely.

  She had to laugh. “It’s a little late for ‘nice to meet yous’, I think,” she said. “With me having already taken off your clothes.”

  Dammit, she was talking about nakedness again. He was going to get the wrong idea about her. But she couldn’t seem to help herself.

  “I know,” he said. “Very forward of you.” He paused, considering. “Although I’d let you do it again if you really wanted to.”

  Terin rolled her eyes. He was as incorrigible as she suspected. But then, she’d started the whole sexual innuendo thing, so she really couldn’t blame him.

  “I’ll let you know if the urge comes over me,” she said.

  He smiled—a full-on smile—and she almost dropped her trowel. He had a gorgeous smile, hot and sweet and genuine. With more than a hint of bad boy underneath. Terin had a feeling that many of those women he’d referred to had seen that smile—and his abs—and decided that talking was overrated after all.

  He broke eye contact with her, looking around the yard. “Do you live up here alone?”

  “Yes,” she said simply. “For years now.”

  He frowned, which bothered her. Like there was something wrong with that.

  “I don’t live with a pack, if that’s what you mean,” she said defensively. “I’ve never met another…someone like me.”

  He looked stunned at that. “Not ever?”

  She shook her head.

  His eyebrows drew together. “But—who raised you? I mean, you must have…”

  “Parents?” she said. “Ah, no.” She smiled mischievously at him. “I’m an angel descended from heaven, remember?”

  He grinned at that. “Well, that explains it,” he said. “But seriously, you must have come from somewhere.”

  She shrugged. It was something she’d given up thinking about a long time ago.

  “I don’t remember,” she said. “I had an accident when I was sixteen. I don’t remember anything that happened before that.”

  He dropped to the ground in one graceful movement and sat cross-legged. “Get out,” he said. “Amnesia? For real?”

  She nodded.

  “Wow,” he said. “That’s rough. You’ve been alone all that time?” He sounded like it was completely unfathomable to him.

  She shook her head. “There was a man—a human. He built this house. He was the one who found me and nursed me back to health. He was—he liked living off the grid. Anyway, we—he and I—”

  “You fell in love,” Rafe said softly.

  Terin smiled sadly and looked down. “Something like that.”

  It was sweet that he was such a romantic. She wouldn’t have thought it of him, with his reckless spirit and bad-boy attitude and sexual jokes. But he believed in love.

  There was no way she could explain to him the complex tangle of caring and affection and need and dependence that had been her relationship with Ben. She’d cared about Ben, maybe even loved him in a way. And they gave each other companionship. But love like Rafe meant? She wasn’t even sure she believed that existed.

  She suddenly realized that the silence had stretched on way too long for most people to be comfortable with.

  He was still sitting there, though, waiting, like he had all the time in the world. She said, “Why did you come here?”

  He gazed at her, head tilted slightly to one side, eyes narrowed. Like he was trying to figure her out.

  “First of all, I wanted to thank you for saving my life.”

  She shrugged, turning her face away, feeling uncomfortable. “I couldn’t just leave you there, bleeding to death. Anyone would have done it.”

  “They would have called an ambulance, maybe,” he said. “I seem to remember you going to a lot of trouble to haul me single-handed out of a ravine in the rain and save my sorry ass. Not to mention personally nursing me back to health.”

  She didn’t say anything to that. She didn’t know what to say—she didn’t know what he wanted from her. Or how to talk to him. He didn’t think they were going to have tea and chat, did he?

  He didn’t seem to mind her silence. He went on, “Mostly, though, I came because I wanted to warn you.”

  “Warn me?” she said. She’d lived on this mountain for years. What would he need to warn her about? “About what? I’m not infringing on your pack territory.”

  He looked shocked, and then a little embarrassed. “Oh, no, it’s nothing like that,” he said. “There’s no territory dispute. But this morning, when I was leaving the cave, a group of human hunters came looking. For you.”

  Hunters? She flashed back for a moment, to the time she wanted to forget. Ben bringing a man dressed in hunting gear here. Because of her. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. That was years ago. And that man was gone. No need to panic.

  She asked, “What kind of hunters?”

  Rafe said, “The kind who said they were hunting a killer wolf, but acted like they were hunting for a person.”

  He let that sit while the implications sank into her mind. Hunters who might know about shifters.

  He asked, “Do you know who they were?”

  She shook her head helplessly. It couldn’t be Ben’s contacts—not after all this time. “I don’t have any idea,” she said.

  Rafe was studying her. She was still trying not to panic. The memories always made her start to panic. And the thought of a group of hunters coming here—hell, the thought of being confronted with more than one person at a time—that made her panic too. She pushed down the wild fluttering sensation in her chest and breathed deeply, resisting the urge to change.

  “Hey,” Rafe said softly. He reached out, his fingertips grazing her arm. “Don’t be scared. It’ll
be okay. Do you want to come back to Silverlake and stay with my pack until we can figure out who those guys are and get them off your trail?”

  His pack. Lots and lots of wolves, people, all around her, wanting her to talk and socialize and do things, be with them. She started to hyperventilate. “No!”

  He withdrew his hand and sat back, his voice still gentle. “Okay then, do you want me to stay with you?”

  “No!” she choked out.

  She looked at him. He was still watching her intently, but not with frustration or anger or annoyance. Just watching, as if he was trying to understand what she needed.

  She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered finally, over the lump in her throat. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Okay,” he said slowly, but he didn’t look convinced.

  Terin got her breathing under control. She wanted to change, to run—it was what she always did when she got panicked. But she wasn’t going to. It was like his calmness was holding her here, making the feeling not so scary.

  He sat without moving, just waiting for her to calm down. Strangely, she did. After a few minutes the panic began to fade. She thought of apologizing, but it was too many words. Too much explanation. And it didn’t matter what he thought, really, did it?

  They sat in the sun for a while, just breathing. Finally, the silence was broken by Rafe’s stomach rumbling. He burst out laughing, and she found herself smiling as well.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I haven’t eaten much for a couple of days.”

  “I know,” she said. “It was all I could do to get enough tea down you to keep you hydrated.”

  “That was tea?” he said. “Huh. I thought it was wolf piss. That stuff was nasty.”

  She found herself throwing a weed at him. “It healed you, didn’t it? You should be grateful.”

  His face sobered. “I am.”

  She looked into his eyes, at the light shining in them. Surprising herself, she said, “I was just about to have lunch. Would you like some?”

  A slow smile spread across his face. “Yes, ma’am, I would,” he said.

  She stood up and led him into the house.