by Godiva Glenn
NIGHT SURRENDER
A Night Wolves Novel
Godiva Glenn
NIGHT SURRENDER
Copyright © 2019 by Godiva Glenn
All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Follow Godiva Glenn at GodivaGlenn.com
ONE
Wolves aren’t meant to be alone, no matter the romantic notion it seemed to be to humans. Wyatt was learning this the hard way, and it was a lesson he needed.
He leaned against his trusty blue pickup while watching people wander through the town, going about their day. His own mind wandered with them, drifting from the voice on the other side of the phone. Hundreds of miles away, his pack’s alpha, Reid, was losing patience with him. He could hear it in his tone, even if his words were encouraging.
“Damon and Rosa always return between missions,” Reid said for perhaps the millionth time. “I don’t know what happened between you and Charlotte and Damon, but they’re still family. Still pack. It’s not healthy for you to stay away. Just because your wolf is strong, it doesn’t mean you aren’t hurting yourself in the long run. Your spirit will grow ill.”
Wyatt could imagine the look of concern that must have worn new creases into Reid’s brow, but he couldn’t go home. Not yet.
“I know. Trust me, I can feel the wear and tear on my soul, and it’s not like I don’t miss my dad’s cooking and my mom’s feeble attempts at turning vegetables into something edible,” he half-joked. “When I return, I’ll be all in. I’m almost ready. And once I’m there, I’ll really be there. Heart and all.”
“It’s not that I question your loyalty to the pack or your devotion to the ancestors,” Reid said.
“I know it’s taken me a while, but you know me. I don’t like things half-assed. When I come home, I’m going to be a better wolf than I was before.”
While listening to Reid’s steady silence, Wyatt tapped his fingers along the truck’s roof and ignored the goofy smiles of two women who had walked by in slow motion. Human females were inexplicably drawn to lupine like himself, but he wasn’t interested. Short skirts and red lips weren’t his type. His type was the wild type that shifted under a full moon and didn’t play dress up.
Finally, Reid exhaled. “Sooner rather than later. You know I hate having to come to town and make calls.”
“Sooner, trust me. I’ll be back before the next moon.”
They each hung up and Wyatt tucked the slim phone into the back pocket of his relaxed jeans. He had his reasons for staying away from the pack for now, and Reid probably had put together more than he wanted to admit.
Still, he was spot on with his words when it came to Wyatt’s wolf being strong. Strong wasn’t invincible, though. Staying away from the pack wasn’t driving him mad, but his luck and self-subsistence couldn’t last forever. If there was such a thing as soul-sickness, that’s how Wyatt would explain the empty ache that came from going too long without any connections to his own kind.
He’d just come from checking on a new pack to the North, but he hadn’t stayed long, and during that short visit, his wolf hadn’t settled down or tried to play nice with others. Not even the ancestors. Nope. There was no place like home.
A few of the females had tried to hang around him and be friendly, but they couldn’t break through the wall around him. He was focused on one thing and one thing alone—his own self-healing.
He stopped at a deli for a sandwich, then walked the street eating. One of the better perks of being a runner for the Bronze pack was being able to try new foods in unfamiliar places. He’d become a fan of a good roast beef sub lately, especially if he could get a healthy slathering of mustard on it.
Too hungry to savor his meal, he finished quickly and wiped his hands on his jeans. Somewhere along this street, he’d find his target.
His friend Charlotte’s mother, Mija, had spent many years in the human world and Nancy was the one close friend she’d had in that time. These days, Mija lived happily with pack and traveling wasn’t comfortable for her. She and Nancy continued their friendship via phone, and as a favor, when Wyatt was in the area, he’d check in.
He’d visited more than a few times in the last four months, and it was a favor he didn’t mind, even if it meant rubbing elbows with humans.
Strangely, when it came to Nancy, he almost looked forward to speaking with a non-lupine. Nancy wasn’t a typical human, though he couldn’t put his finger on exactly what made her that way. All he knew was that whenever he came by, usually a few days at a time, she always made time for him, but didn’t crowd him. He visited for himself, and she didn’t get in the way of that.
As he walked, he surveyed every short woman within sight. This town seemed to be populated by midgets, which didn’t help when it came to tracking a five-foot-two woman. Instead, he sought out her other features.
Her brown eyes were large and expressive, almost as distinct as those of the owls she seemed obsessed with. The first time they’d met she had a massive owl on her sweater, two dangling from her ears, and an owl clip in her wavy mocha hair.
It was strange that he could recall that first moment, since they saw each other for perhaps a minute, and he was preoccupied. But then again, he’d always been a natural for saving details away.
Or maybe it was something else. Memories triggered by scent. She smelled… clean. Most human women wore obnoxious perfumes that made him recoil and hold his breath. Nancy had only the most delicate fragrance of flowers to her, and it stirred a relaxing air in him when they spent time together.
He turned a corner and scanned the people walking around. From various trips before and the reminding of Mija, he knew that Nancy had a pattern to her week. Given that it was Friday afternoon, at this time she would most likely be grabbing a coffee or sketching in the park.
He crossed the street towards the local cafe and spotted her immediately. She sat alone at a small outdoor table, one hand wrapped around a tall cup, the other tapping a pencil against blank paper. The only owls in sight dangled from her ears. She wore a plain white shirt and blue jeans today, and her hair was in a messy bun sitting crookedly at her crown.
He paused, considering his introduction. Every time he appeared, she always asked why he was in town, and he wasn’t great at answering that. He always gave a vague response about work in the area, and she was okay with that, but eventually, she was going to pry about what work he did. Honestly, he couldn’t understand why she hadn’t already. Or had I told her I was a contractor or something in the past?
He hated lying, largely because he could never remember what he’d lied about. Nancy was the only human he had regular contact with, however, and he couldn’t just tell her what he was really doing. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed that he’d have to have told her something untrue in the past and immediately forgotten about it.
Awesome. Fucking awesome.
Humans were notorious for being suspicious. What do I do if she doesn’t believe me this time around? He brushed the crumbs from his shirt and approached. Under the sun, Nancy’s dark hair picked up red highlights, something he’d never noticed before. Her face, scrunched in concentration on whatever she drew, was decidedly mousey.
Yet that wasn’t a terrible thing. His sharp vision let him see the nearly invisible freckles spattering
her cheeks and the narrow, gently upward sloping nose that made her look younger than her twenty-five years, an innocence countered by the focus in her eyes. She was easily an old soul.
She took a sip of her drink and licked her naturally pink lips. A flush of heat ran through his body and he was bombarded with thoughts of her licking other things. Like him. What the hell?
In his months of running, he’d only made time for his sexual needs twice. Hookups turned out to be one of the less pleasant aspects of his time away from home. Wyatt had found that most women weren’t fond of the no-strings-attached notion.
Then again, maybe he wasn’t supposed to try to discuss it beforehand. Back home, the women in the nearest towns were accustomed to the pack’s needs. They didn’t realize their neighbors were lupine, instead believing the strange rumor that the people living in the woods were gypsies.
The gossip made the pack seem mysterious and alluring. As a result, the women were fine with having their desires met by a guy who would disappear in the morning. Even then, Wyatt didn’t visit frequently. Most of the time, he could bury himself in training enough to stifle his baser urges.
Having needs that jerking off didn’t cut was probably the biggest flaw of being lupine. Even when he could find a woman for the night, his wolf recoiled, and the entire ordeal took much longer than he preferred.
Which is why it made no sense for his balls to be tightening just watching Nancy drink whatever silly mocha double-shot concoction was in her cup.
She lifted the straw and licked the small tube free of clingy whipped cream and a low growl escaped his throat. Maybe he should skip this visit.
Nancy was attractive for a human, but it had to be his needy hormones making him react now, and he definitely had to ignore them. He wasn’t a genius when it came to relationships, but he knew that nothing good could come from having a one-night stand with her. Taking a deep breath, he forced all dirty thoughts away from his mind. Thankfully, she put the straw away.
“Hey,” he called, lifting his hand in greeting.
She flinched and spun, nearly knocking her drink over but catching it before more than a few drops spilled.
“Sorry,” he muttered as she wiped frantically at the still blank page.
“Oh… oh.” She flattened her palms to the table and stared at him for a moment. “Wyatt!”
“Yup.”
“Sorry. I thought for a second you were… but thank gods you aren’t.” She stood and embraced him, her thin arms wrapping around his waist before he could react. Her need for physical contact matched his own, though for different reasons, he assumed.
He returned the hug and took it a step further, lifting her from her feet and spinning her around. The scent of roses tickled his nose and he fought the urge to bury his face into her soft hair. Her breasts pressed against him made him realize that maybe this was a mistake. Down boy…
Returning her to her feet, he noticed the bright red of her cheeks and heard the pounding of her heart. Clearly, he’d overstepped, and she was panicking.
“Too much?” he asked.
“No,” she said waving her hand dismissively. “I needed it. Back in town, huh?”
“For a little bit. Thought I’d check in on you.”
“Of course.” She looked at her things and nodded to herself. “Oh, then are you going to join me here? Did you want something to drink?”
He sat but shook his head. “Still not into coffee,” he replied. “Or tea.”
“I guess someday you’ll have to run into me at a place that serves beer.”
“Like a bar?”
“Yeah.”
Arching a brow, he looked her over. “Have you ever been in a bar?”
Her brown eyes rolled but her smile was sheepish, and she answered, “Not since my twenty-first birthday.”
“Didn’t think so.”
She pulled out a notebook and tucked the blank page and pencil into it, then shoved everything into the massive messenger bag she used as a purse. Storing it on the chair next to her, she looked him over. “So… work?”
“Yeah,” he replied lamely.
“And how is everyone?”
“Great. The usual.”
She nodded and wrapped both hands around her drink, pulling it front and center before her. They’d already exhausted the usual topics, but with Nancy, silence wasn’t awkward. Not usually, at least.
“Who did you think I was?” he asked.
Her eyes slid to the side. “Brent.”
As in her repeat offender ex Brent, the massive tool whom Nancy had dated about a half dozen times in the last three years.
“Don’t tell me you got involved with him again,” Wyatt groaned. Even though it was petty human drama, it frustrated him to see Nancy degrade herself over and over.
“It wasn’t like that,” she bristled.
“But you got back together?”
“I’m done. It’s over,” she insisted.
“You’ve said that before. It doesn’t matter if you don’t mean it.”
“But I did and still do mean it… can’t we just talk about something else?”
He shook his head. “Why did you even go back?”
She slammed her hands down on the table as she stood, jostling her drink and causing the other outdoor patrons to look over. “You don’t know me well enough for it to be your business,” she snapped.
Her dark eyes narrowed, bright with anger. Wyatt leaned away; this new side of Nancy was not one he knew existed.
“I didn’t—”
“You don’t get to judge me! You think you’re the first person to think you know everything about my life?”
“Nance, I just…” He didn’t know how to finish.
“You’re concerned, I bet,” she muttered, gathering her things. “But you know what? I don’t need it.”
She stomped away, tiny feet smacking the pavement with loud taps that made him sure that following would be a disaster. He grew aware of all the eyes on him, no doubt putting pieces together and forming a narrative. Wonderful.
All he wanted to do was protect her if she was silly enough not to handle it herself, and now he was the bad guy. He got up, ignoring the judgmental crowd. He’d never heard of a female lupine putting up with the kind of toxic relationship that seemed common with humans. Helping was his intent, but clearly, the solution wasn’t telling the truth.
He watched Nancy disappear into the downtown crowd. Her scent still mingled in the air, and it held a salty twinge. He’d made her cry.
Suddenly, being right no longer mattered. There’d been no tact to him driving home a point she likely already knew, and what did he even get out of it? Why did he think lecturing her on her life would be the best way to express how nice it was to see her today?
He’d been a bully, and he needed to make it right. Part of the reason he was in town was to search for the better side of himself, and this was the wrong start.
* * * *
Nancy’s apartment was in the middle of the city, part of an odd subdivision that hid from the surrounding business with strategic trees and confusing narrow streets. Wyatt had only been by twice before but still had no trouble finding her door.
He glanced up the yellow siding and past the white railing decorated with tiny red hearts, a decoration left over from Valentine’s day, he guessed. Beyond that, the door leading to the balcony was ajar. She had to be home.
In the past, he’d know exactly what to say to Nancy. He’d always been a people pleaser, so to speak. It was something he now detested. He didn’t want to be falsely cheery or rely on charm and luck to get situations to work. The disaster that had been his last relationship was evidence that planning every conversation and trying to fit into a mold wasn’t the way to be.
With that in mind, he rapped his fists on the door and decided he’d say whatever made sense in the moment.
The door opened after only a minute, and Nancy cautiously peeked out of the narrow gap. “Yes?”
It hadn’t occurred to him how much it may hurt to see her like this. Her usually bright disposition had become empty and unwelcoming, from her protective stance to her hard stare. His heart flipped. He didn’t enjoy causing pain and certainly hadn’t intended to ruin her day. “I’m sorry. Could we talk?”
“I don’t really want to talk.”
“Then you don’t have to. But I was an ass and maybe listening to me say that for a few minutes will make you feel better.”
The door opened a few inches more and the air conditioner inside pushed a cold, floral gush across his face. She looked him up and down, an appraisal he didn’t quite understand but wasn’t going to question. He must’ve passed whatever inspection was running through her head because she stepped out of her apartment and leaned her back against the door as she yanked it closed behind her.
“Go on, then.”
He glanced around.
“I don’t invite strangers inside, and whatever words you have should be safe for eavesdroppers, or I don’t want to hear them.”
This wasn’t the sweet young woman he was used to. They’d gone from hugging to being strangers, and that didn’t sit well with him. Whatever happened in the latest round with Brent, it had hardened her to steel. It was the kind of transformation that made him want to hurt someone. The world deserved sweet and caring, yet it regularly churned out bitter and cold.
“Your life isn’t my business, and I definitely had no right to be as dickish about your choices,” he started. Taking his cue from the harsh glint in her eyes, he continued, “To be honest, when I thought that he had another chance to hurt you, it dashed all the brain cells from my head. I know I don’t know you well, and you don’t know me, but I guess I’m protective to a fault.”
“That doesn’t sound like an apology. It sounds like an excuse.”
Wyatt tilted his head and gave her a humble smile. “You’re right. I am sorry though, because the real issue was that I’m trying to be less of an asshole, and when I think of you being with an asshole like me, it’s hard to separate myself from the situation.”