Run with me. Hunt with me.
Like when they’d been young, when they’d been friends. Had she not been in wolf form, a lump would have formed in her throat, holding the pain of all the years of distance between them, the relief that now that distance seemed to have disappeared. He barked again, snapping and nudging at her front paws until she realized what he was doing. He wanted her to initiate their hunt, to lead.
She puffed her chest forward, shaking off a layer of snow that had gathered on her fur before she threw back her head and howled. Her sisters joined in the chorus. All the females of the pack howling as the packmaster hopped around her like a playful pup.
And then they ran.
The pack divided into small units and hierarchies. It was tradition for the alpha to take the first kill, but he’d gifted that privilege to her, and she wanted not just to take the kill but to find the prey. She and Maverick raced up the mountainside. She knew these mountains, these lands.
Home.
A quiet ridge, bounding through the snow with Maverick flanking her. From the openmouthed panting coming from his jowls, he smelled it, too. When they located the buck, they waited in silent watch.
They followed the animal for some time. Sensing their presence but unable to shake them off his trail, the buck became disoriented with fear. Increasingly sloppy, he stumbled about, looking for escape and finding none. Sierra’s heart pounded in anticipation as she exchanged glances with Maverick, and then they descended. He took the animal from the front, fielding the dangerous antlers as she lunged from the back, only narrowly avoiding the blow of a back hoof.
The deer died in the silent glow of the moonlight. Sierra reveled in the gamy taste of it in her jaws. She tore open the carcass, savoring the fatty liver for herself before ripping out the animal’s still beating heart. Covered in blood, dirt, and snow, she laid it at the feet of her alpha before she nipped playfully at his ear, followed by a quick yip.
I give you my heart.
She’d meant for it to be funny. Even in wolf form, the human side of her could still appreciate a good pun. She expected him to growl and nose it away in disapproval of her antics before he devoured it. But he didn’t so much as sniff it. Instead, his golden wolf eyes turned toward her, pinning her in place. She lowered her eyes, but as he stepped toward her, he bumped the underside of her muzzle more than once, forcing her to look toward him.
And then, he did the unthinkable. There, with the other elite warriors who’d fallen into ranks surrounding them, he marked her. Rubbing his neck against hers, he spread his scent over her as he would a mate. Had she been in human form, she would have reeled at how soon the declaration of their mating came after naming her warrior, but as wolf, with the lingering taste of the deer’s fragile life in her jaws and the gentle snowfall all around them, silencing the sounds of the mountains, she couldn’t bring herself to care.
Mate, warrior, lover, female.
She could be all these things when she was wild and none of those roles conflicted. She wasn’t bound by humanity’s silly constructs. She simply was.
The warmth of the packmaster’s fur brushed against her as he marked her. He nuzzled against her in a gentle, almost reverent caress.
This isn’t real, she reminded herself.
All the same, she leaned into his touch, soaking in the feeling of his warmth against her, his scent all around her, the heat of his breath against her throat, all the things she’d longed for for years but had never been able to have and never would. Not really. Not given freely without stipulation or duty or demand.
As he eased away from her, the scent of him forever lingering on her skin, her brother let out an approving howl followed by the chorus of the other elite warriors. She wagged her tail and pretended to be pleased despite the ache in her chest.
They chased rabbits, deer, and even bears that night, taking and eating their fill, and as the last of the moon slipped into day, Sierra slunk away, veering off from the rest of the pack and distancing herself until she was alone. Once she was separated from the pack, she shifted into human form, huddling naked and freezing with cold beneath a pine, and there for the first time in years, Sierra cried hot tears that cut through the cold mountain snow.
Chapter 16
Meet me tonight.
Sierra stared at the words, scrawled in Maverick’s truncated script followed by the location. It’d been a long day. She’d spent more time than she’d intended helping Blaze reposition the cow cams in the calving shed, so they could keep an eye on the few pregnant mothers who’d bred outside the usual calving season. Most of the afternoon, she’d been up on a ladder next to the shed’s rafters, only to descend and gracefully land one of her boots in a fresh cow patty, much to Blaze and Dakota’s amusement.
After she’d wrangled Randy, who’d taken a particular interest in Naomi’s mare of late, into his pen, she’d returned to her cabin on the far side of the compound before placing Elvis in the small coop she’d built for him on her back porch. It was only then that she’d found the note slipped underneath her door. She glanced down at the words again. A mixture of excitement and nervous relief twisted in her gut.
It’d been over two weeks since she and Maverick had run wild, and if she’d fooled herself into thinking something had changed between them, the time since would have corrected her. Other than several elite warrior meetings, Sierra hadn’t seen the gruff packmaster. She’d known his role kept him busy with long hours that bled into long days, but still she’d anticipated seeing him more as they drew closer to the official announcement of their engagement. Before the incident in the cave, the council had been clear that if they allowed her to be promoted before they mated, her and Maverick’s pending engagement announcement and wedding date had to be chosen before the month’s end. Not that him marking her hadn’t already said the events were soon to come, just without official words.
It wasn’t until the two-week mark passed with no contact from him that she suspected he was avoiding her. Sure, she had her position now, the most important aspect of their bargain as far as she was concerned. But the council wouldn’t let them off the hook that easy. Her continued appointment was contingent upon their marriage—and if they didn’t fulfill the request by the month’s end, it’d all be for naught. So when his note arrived, the confirmation that he’d keep his word about all their arrangements gave her an unexpected sense of relief.
Later that evening, as she headed out to meet him, she locked her cabin door behind her before her foot slid across something movable atop her doormat. She glanced down. Another note. Maybe a change in location? Maverick’s initial message had instructed her to meet him at the training gym of all places. Perhaps he’d had a change of heart? She picked up the folded paper, its surface now dusted with dirt from the edge of her boot. Brushing it off, she unfolded it only to let out a frustrated curse.
Another hate note. Not a message from Maverick at all.
She didn’t even glance twice at the vitriol before she ripped the paper in two. Whatever asshole was still leaving these, when were they going to take a hint? She wouldn’t be intimidated.
Twenty minutes later, she stood alone amid the equipment in the training gym, all thoughts of the hateful note forgotten. This late, most of the packmembers would be in the woods or sleeping if tomorrow was their turn on the ranch’s chore rotation. The sound of the gym’s heater buzzed in the background, filling the empty space with a constant vibrating hum. He couldn’t possibly be planning any “lesson” for them in here, could he?
She leaned against the far wall, waiting, until suddenly a rough hand grabbed her. Before she knew what was going on, she was wrenched backward into the wall. In an instant, the stark fluorescent lights of the gym disappeared, and she was engulfed in darkness. A large hand clapped over her mouth.
“Sierra,” Maverick grumbled, causing her to still.
Through
the darkness, she blinked, allowing her eyes to adjust. Adrenaline pumped through her. She’d been prepared to lash out against what she’d thought was an attacker. Not that there seemed to be much room in this dark space for a fight if the way she bumped against the wall so easily was any indication.
“Where the hell are we?” she rasped, catching her breath from the scare.
“The tunnel.”
“Yeah, like that explains anything.”
He grunted his agreement. “There are passages, hidden corridors, pathways, all around the ranch in case of emergencies.”
She quirked a brow. “And is this an emergency?”
“No,” he grumbled. Some dark emotion flashed in his eyes. “But for discretion.”
Discretion.
The low growl in his voice promised exactly what kind of discretion they’d need.
With her senses adjusting, she deciphered his outline in the darkness. He filled the small space even more thoroughly than she did. The tunnel ceiling skimmed below the top of his head, forcing him to duck to fit inside. His wolf eyes glowed with anticipation.
Sierra cleared her throat. “I wasn’t certain you would keep our deal after…”
Some dark emotion flashed in his eyes. “I’m a man of my word.”
Before she could push further, he clasped her hand in his, gently leading her farther into the darkness, away from the glowing square outline of the hidden door.
“Are we going to your secret lair?” she joked.
“Yes.”
“What?”
Maverick chuffed a short laugh. It was as close to a chuckle as she’d heard from him in a long time. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d joked with her.
“To the packmaster’s quarters,” he clarified.
She followed him down a series of dark tunnels, weaving and curving until finally they reached another glowing outline of a door. He pushed it open and stepped through. Though the lighting was dim on the other side, the contrast from the complete darkness of the tunnel caused her to shield her eyes.
Stepping through the entry, she lowered her hand and surveyed the room before her. A large office greeted her, decorated in dark, mahogany wood and with coffered ceilings nearly identical to the public office he kept near the command center. At the far end of the room, an open doorway led into a bedroom.
He closed the hidden door behind, the sound carrying with it a finality that signaled they were truly alone. He led her into the bedroom before he turned toward her again. Alone like this, the expanse of his king-size bed between them like an unfilled promise, she felt the weight of all their unspoken words.
She wanted to bridge the gap, close the distance between them, but she didn’t know how. She trailed a hand across the burgundy top sheet. Egyptian cotton with a high thread count. The sheets were folded with methodical perfection. She could bounce a quarter off them.
The drawn-out silence grew unbearable.
Sierra gave an awkward smile. “I don’t think I’ve been past the foyer of your apartment.”
Maverick swallowed, his Adam’s apple giving a sharp lurch. “No, you haven’t.”
From his clipped, tense tone, she gathered her mistake.
The foyer.
The only time she’d been there had been…
Without meaning to, she’d immediately brought up the elephant in the room. She was fumbling this. “I meant I’m interested in seeing where you live, that’s all…” She hesitated. “Where we’ll live after…”
After their wedding night.
Time was running out for them to announce a date, and in the meantime, per their arrangement…
She released a long breath. There’s nothing between us, she reminded herself. There can’t be.
He’d been clear about that from the start. That Rose hadn’t been his choice didn’t change that, didn’t mean he hadn’t loved his late wife, and certainly didn’t mean he had any feelings for her.
She reached for the door beside her, adjacent to the one they’d come in. Exiting seemed like her only strategy at this point, and she was desperate for a change in subject. She turned the handle to open the door. “Does this lead out into the rest of the—”
Suddenly, his hand was over hers as he slammed the door shut. In this position, he had her caged between him and the doorframe. This close to him, alone in his bedroom, she felt the heat radiating from his body. She stared up into the dark shadows of his face. She could practically feel the tickle of his beard against her chin, like when she’d kissed him. What would it feel like to run her fingers through the coarse scruff across his cheek? For him to pin her flush against this door and kiss her? She’d wrap her legs around him, bury her hands in the long strands of his hair. Her nipples tightened.
Down, girl.
Whether he smelled her arousal, she wasn’t certain.
Reaching around her, he twisted the lock on the door before he pushed away from the doorframe again. “We’ll move you into the opposite side of the apartment after the wedding. Until then, you’re welcome in here, so long as that door remains closed.”
She adjusted the hair tie at the end of her braid, a nervous habit. “What’s behind the door? Your actual secret lair?” She gave a nervous laugh, hoping to lighten the mood. Maybe he’d joke with her again?
But to her disappointment, all she saw there was the same grumbly packmaster he’d become over the years. No hint of the playful young man he’d once been. “That’s the family wing of the house.”
The family wing. A knot twisted her in stomach. Of course. He didn’t want her in the part of his home he’d shared with Rose. Not yet anyway…
The chasm between them widened. Apparently, there was no getting around this conversation. “Maverick, about what happened in the caverns—”
He cut her off. “All the more reason our terms need to be clear moving forward.”
“Terms?” She blinked. That hadn’t been what she’d expected at all. She’d been about to tell him that she—
“No attachments. No love, and this ends after our wedding night.” The decisive command in his words cut through her. “We’ll live our separate lives after that.”
“I see.” It was all she could manage to say at the moment. She’d known what she’d seen in the cave didn’t change anything, but still, she’d hoped…
For tonight, he’d whispered. Even then on the mountainside, he’d been clear it couldn’t be more than that. She just hadn’t wanted to believe it.
“For the sake of the pack, my judgment can’t be clouded,” he continued. “There can be no repeats of what happened in the cave. It could cost lives. So whatever happens between us in this room must stay in this room, and no matter how real anything between us may feel, we both need to be clear that it isn’t. Understand?”
When she didn’t immediately answer, he growled.
“Sierra?”
It was the tone he used when she was treading dangerous territory, pushing him too far.
“I understand,” she whispered. “What happened in the cave doesn’t change anything.” She swallowed, hard, the silence between them stretching. “For you.”
“Sierra,” he breathed, the word was laced with subtle warning.
But she wouldn’t back down. For her, the cave had changed everything. Somehow it lessened the hurt that singular decision had caused her. She’d felt the pain of his rejection deep in her bones for the past ten years, the pain that even if he did someday choose her, she’d always be second. Second choice. Second fiddle, and until now, due to her gender, second class. But she recognized how selfish that was. She couldn’t resent him for not returning her feelings. He didn’t owe anything to her. There hadn’t been any promises between them, only friendship.
A friendship she’d buried.
And whether he wanted to or not, she ne
eded him to hear this. “I know just because your and Rose’s marriage was arranged doesn’t mean that you didn’t love her, that you don’t still love her.” Sierra spoke around the lump in her throat, the hurt from his rejection caught in her windpipe, making it hard to breathe. “I was home on leave when she passed, you know, so I know you loved her.”
The mourning howls still echoed in her memory. That was what their kind did when they lost a mate. Against all better logic, they shifted into wolf form and howled, prowling the mountainside in search of a lost love they’d never again find. Those keening howls had haunted her. She hadn’t slept well for weeks. None of them had.
“Sierra,” he warned again.
She pressed on. “I know what we saw doesn’t change anything between you and me.”
He swore, turning to face the opposite wall, his head cradled in one of his hands as he rubbed his temple. Another stretch of silence passed as she watched him, shoulders tense and writhing.
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” she breathed.
He rounded on her then. “I don’t want pity, especially not from you. Rose’s death is on my hands. The blood of every member of this pack is on my hands. Don’t ever forget it.” He cut her words short as if he couldn’t bear what she’d been about to say. “The past is the past, Sierra.”
“I know,” she nodded. “I know, but with the air cleared between us, I thought maybe we could be…” She hesitated, thinking of the memory she’d had in the cave. Of him, standing over her, smiling. So much younger. So much more…carefree. “I thought maybe we could be friends?”
* * *
Friends. Maverick felt the tension in his body coil. The idea of being friends with Sierra sounded as torturous as this arrangement of theirs was proving to be. He patted his back pocket, where the list she’d given him still remained. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to read it. Not without risking everything. It’d been burning a hole there ever since. He could think of few things worse than re-creating the intimacy of friendship that’d once been between them. Not when they were already planning to tread dangerous territory.
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