by J. L. Wilder
She glared at him. “It’s not just our battle. I know you know better than that. Their actions could make this an unsafe place for all of us to live.”
Owen hesitated. “My people aren’t going to want to come and live with a bunch of wolves,” he said. “Why don’t you all come up here instead? You said yourself that we’re closer to Butte.”
“No,” Fiona said. She couldn’t compromise on this. She couldn’t let her pack perceive her as working under another alpha’s leadership. It wasn’t just a matter of pride. If Percy and the others lost faith in her, the Hell’s Wolves might never recover.
Owen narrowed his eyes, and Fiona could tell this moment was just as significant to him as it was to her. If he knuckled under here, he too would be showing weakness in the eyes of his pack.
He probably thinks it’s worse for him than it is for me, she thought, brimming with frustration, because he’d be giving in to a woman. He probably thinks that makes him weak.
But when he spoke, he surprised her.
“You’re not going to give in on this, are you?” he asked.
There was frustration in his voice, certainly. But not nearly as much stubbornness as she had anticipated. He wasn’t going to make this a hill to die on.
“No,” she said. “I’m not.”
He studied her face. “What happened to make you like this?”
“To make me like what?”
“So...commanding.”
She shook her head. “What kind of alpha isn’t commanding? How could I hope to lead my pack if I couldn’t take control?”
“I’ve never met anyone like you,” he admitted.
“Yeah,” she said. “You said that already. You’ve never met a she-alpha.”
“No,” he said. “That’s not what I mean. I’ve never met...anyone like you. Male or female. I’ve never met anyone so sure of themselves.”
Fiona was stunned. She wasn’t sure of herself at all. She questioned herself at every turn. But Owen didn’t seem to see it that way.
Did he see something in her that she herself wasn’t picking up on? Or had she simply fooled him that well?
Something about the way he was looking about her made her feel very off kilter. Embarrassed, somehow. She was always aware of the fact that she was a woman in a role traditionally held by men, but she usually tried to make up for that by playing up the more masculine parts of her personality. Right now, though, she felt hyperfeminine.
What was going on?
Perhaps it was just the giant, hulking man before her, with his huge biceps and shoulders and his chiseled jaw. Next to him, it was easy to feel small and delicate and female.
She struggled to regain her composure. “So you’ll come?” she asked. “You’ll bring your pack south?”
“Yes,” he agreed. “We’ll ride south with you.”
“We should go right now,” she said. “We don’t have any time to waste.”
But he shook his head. “My pack will need time to prepare for the journey—and I need time to convince them that this is the right thing to do, as well.”
“How much time?”
“We’ll go tomorrow,” he said. “Will that be soon enough? Stay with us tonight, and we’ll all go together in the morning.”
“Are they going to kill me in my sleep?”
He gave her a wicked grin. “I’ll tell them not to.”
“I think I’ll lock my door anyway, just in case,” Fiona said.
Chapter Seven
OWEN
Owen could hardly believe what he was doing, even as he showed Fiona up the stairs and into the room that was usually his.
A she-alpha. And he was allowing her to stay in his house, to sleep in his bed, when for all he knew she had hoodwinked her entire pack. What kind of manipulation was this woman capable of? He had no way of knowing. He only knew that for some reason, by some means, she had gotten an entire pack to follow her.
And it wasn’t as if the Hell’s Wolves were weak. He had never met them before, but he knew them by reputation. They had been in this part of Montana as long as the Wild Grizzlies had, and Owen knew that the peace between their packs had been agreed upon by their ancestors because of an understanding that war would claim so many casualties on both sides.
Was it possible that the Hell’s Wolves had simply fallen apart so much since those days that they had become willing to entrust their pack to a woman?
It couldn’t just be that. Because Fiona had told him she’d had to fight for control of her pack. She had overthrown a male alpha in order to take the reins.
He watched her as she made her way into the bedroom, stopping to touch a few things like the desk he had carved and assembled himself. He couldn’t help feeling that she was judging what she saw, and that thought made him uncomfortable.
Who is she to judge me? he thought. I’m the alpha here. She’s not even a bear, for God’s sake. She’s just a wolf. He had never thought much of wolves. They resorted to violence far too quickly.
Of course, I can’t talk about being too quick to violence. Not while I’ve got Damon in my pack.
Fiona looked up at him. “This will do,” she said, as if he’d been offering the room for her approval, as if there was another room she could have chosen if this one hadn’t been to her liking.
“There’s a lock on the door,” he said, pulling it closed and showing her how the deadbolt fastened. “You’ll have as much privacy as you want.”
She nodded. “I appreciate that.”
Which wasn’t the same as thank you. If she kept asserting dominance over him like this, there was going to be a confrontation, and it was going to happen sooner rather than later. If Owen had been in his animal form right now, he knew, his hackles would be up. It was deeply frustrating having to stay calm and logical in the face of her attitude.
I’ll go for a run, he decided. When this is all over, when I’m done settling her in, I’ll go for a run before I talk to the rest of the pack. He would need to calm himself down, anyway, before trying to convince them to do what needed to be done. Damon, at least, was going to be furious that he’d already agreed to ride south.
“Do you need anything?” he managed to ask her.
“No,” she said. “Just keep your bears downstairs, please. I’m going to try to get some sleep, and the last thing I need is a bunch of shaggy brutes thundering around.”
That really was the last straw. “Listen,” Owen said. “You came to our house. You asked for our help. And ever since you got here, you’ve been acting like you’re doing us a favor by existing. Trust me, wolf girl, you’re not. We’d be just as happy to see the back of you. So if you hate bears so much, why don’t you get back on that second-rate bike of yours and go home?”
“Don’t talk about my bike.” She stepped in close, her face twisted in anger. Owen had to admit, he was surprised. He had fully expected her to back down a bit when he finally snapped at her, but here she was getting in his face instead. “I built that bike myself. But I suppose you think women can’t do that either.”
“Don’t paint me as a misogynist just because you’ve got a man’s job.”
“It’s not a man’s job. It’s my job. And if you’re going to come down there and tell my packmates they’re wrong for listening to me just because I’m a woman, then maybe I don’t want your help after all.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
They stared at each other for a long moment. Owen could feel the weight of Fiona’s gaze, as if she was trying to extract something from him, some knowledge, or maybe elicit some behavior. Was this how it felt to be presided over by an alpha?
Back off, he thought, though he couldn’t quite say it to her. Back away.
He had the sense she was thinking the very same thing.
And yet, neither of them backed down.
If anything, Owen thought, they were getting closer to each other...
He wasn’t aware of the moment when he reached out
and pulled her body against his. He only knew that she was there, her hands skating up the sides of his body and onto his chest as he embraced her and inhaled the scent of her. It should have repulsed him. He could smell wolf all over her. He should have been pushing her away.
But there was something in that scent he’d never noticed before. Something exotic. Something that made him want to explore further, to go deeper. He slid his hands down her back to the firm curve of her ass and squeezed, lifting as he did so, bringing her up and off the ground.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and captured his mouth with her own. The others are downstairs, Owen thought helplessly. They know I came up here to show her to her room. They know we’re alone together. If I don’t come back—
But no. There was no way. There was no way any of the Wild Grizzlies would ever guess at what was happening in this room right now. If Owen hadn’t been holding Fiona in his arms, if his tongue hadn’t been tangled with hers, he would never have believed it himself.
They shed their clothes in record time. It felt to Owen as though their bodies never separated, although he knew they must have. As soon as she was naked, she jumped at him, knocking him back onto the bed so that he lay flat on his back. He got his elbows underneath him and managed to sit upright as she straddled him and took him inside her with one quick, effortless motion.
Neither of them, it seemed, were prepared for the feeling of being joined. She knelt astride him and leaned forward, forehead resting on his shoulder, panting. Owen ran his hand along the line of her thigh, the curve of her hip, amazed at her beauty and power and at how natural this felt. She’s a wolf, he tried once more to tell himself. This is wrong.
But his body didn’t care. He wanted her like he’d never wanted anyone before in his life.
She began to move, slowly, gently, rocking her hips back and forth, grinding against him. He wanted to touch her everywhere, to feel the breasts that moved against him with every breath she took, to thread his fingers through her soft hair as it fell against his cheek, but he settled for palming her ass and pulling her closer with one hand. He allowed his other hand to work its way along her thigh, climbing higher as she rode him.
I’m going to make her come, he decided. She thinks she’s in charge here, but she isn’t. I’m going to get her so close she’s begging for it, and then she’ll understand what an alpha really is.
He would have used his tongue if he could, but there was absolutely no chance he was going to be able to stop fucking her. He would die if he tried. He worked his hand between their bodies instead, bringing his thumb to rest where he knew she was most sensitive.
He applied no pressure. He didn’t move an inch. He simply touched her, let her know he was there, and waited.
Sure enough, she groaned and tried to press into him, to relieve her need.
He pulled his hand back. “No,” he said quietly. “You get what I give you.”
“Oh my God. I hate you.”
He brought his thumb back and gave her a little swipe. “Do you?”
“So much.”
“I can stop.”
“I’ll fucking kill you.”
“Then you should be nicer to me. Don’t you think?”
“Just do it.”
He touched her once more, lightly at first, then more firmly, tracing circles with his thumb. She let out a sob, and he felt a thrill of satisfaction. He pulled away again. “Say please,” he said.
“Please! Damn you!”
“Say it nicer than that.”
“Please,” she begged. “Please, please, Owen, you’re driving me insane.”
He smiled up at her. “All you had to do was ask.”
She was helpless, then, as he worked her, guiding the roll of her hips with one hand as he stroked her with the other. She convulsed around him as she came, and Owen bit down on the hand she clapped over his mouth to keep him from alerting the whole house to their activities with his own roar of satisfaction.
She rolled off the bed, gathered her clothes, and began to get dressed. “You can’t tell anybody that that happened,” she said sternly.
“Why would I want to?” he grumbled, finding his own feet. Now that the intensity of the moment had passed, he couldn’t believe he had allowed himself to succumb to the allure of this woman. She was attractive, yes—she was beautiful. And there was something about her power and authority that did seem to call to him. But she was a wolf. It was disgusting.
At least, he knew he should feel that way.
But there was no real conviction behind the thought. There had been nothing disgusting about what had just happened between them, that was for sure. Ill advised, yes. Disgusting? Definitely not.
If it wasn’t so fucking stupid, he thought, he might even be convinced to do it again.
But that definitely wasn’t going to happen. Owen yanked on his jeans without looking at Fiona. She didn’t have anything to worry about. He definitely wasn’t going to tell his packmates anything about what had happened here. He could just imagine what they would have to say. Ridicule would be the best of it. Damon might use it as an excuse to say that Owen had lost control of himself and should be ousted as alpha.
“I’ll be downstairs,” he said gruffly. “You can help yourself to anything from the fridge, if you want. Otherwise I’ll see you in the morning.” He left the room before she could answer, closing the door behind him.
How had he allowed Fiona to get into his head like that? Owen knew he had the mental strength to stand up to difficult things. He shouldn’t have been taken in, no matter how beautiful and powerful she was.
And yet he had been.
This is a bad situation, he told himself. This spells trouble for the entire pack.
For a moment he genuinely considered calling off the plan, sending Fiona back to face the Feral Fangs alone.
But he couldn’t do it. She had come to him for help, which meant that she didn’t think her pack could defeat them. And as scary as he found this apparent attraction he felt to Fiona, the Feral Fangs were still the bigger threat.
I’ll just have to keep myself under control, he thought firmly. I can do that. I’m an alpha.
Everything’s going to be fine.
Chapter Eight
FIONA
The night went by unbearably slowly. Fiona couldn’t seem to get what had happened out of her head.
He’s a bear. He’s a bear, for God’s sake. And you slept with him. He’s the leader of a pack we’re barely even civil with.
These were the things her packmates would say, if they ever found out what had happened. She could imagine Percy looking at her with disgust in his eyes.
Even Wes, usually her staunchest ally, would have nothing good to say if he knew what had happened here. He might try to defend her. Why shouldn’t she use every tool in her arsenal? he might say, thinking he sounded reasonable, thinking he was helping. If she could get him on her side by using her sexuality, why shouldn’t she?
Because that wasn’t what had happened, that was why not. Owen had already agreed to work with her before he had shown her up to the bedroom. She had convinced him of the need for them to work together without taking her clothes off.
Not that anybody would believe that if they ever found out she’d had sex with him. Why else would a wolf have sex with a bear, if not to manipulate him? If not to manipulate the situation?
She doubted either Percy or Wes would understand if she tried to explain the real reason.
Why had she been so attracted to him? Why had she found him so impossible to resist?
Fiona thought she would never get to sleep, so distracted was she by the thoughts that chased each other around and around in her head, but before she knew it light was slanting in through the curtains, taking her by surprise.
Morning had come. At some point, she had indeed fallen asleep.
She made her way downstairs in the same clothes she had worn yesterday. She had taken the time last night to ri
nse her body in the Wild Grizzlies’ upstairs bathroom, and she didn’t think she reeked of sex, but she still took a nervous breath before stepping into the kitchen.
They all looked up. But no one looked shocked or suspicious. There was still dislike on a couple of faces, but that was to be expected. She was a wolf in a den full of bears. Of course they didn’t like her.
“I’d like to leave in an hour,” she said.
One of the bears raised his eyebrows. “You don’t give orders here,” he pointed out.
“Enough, Damon,” Owen spoke up from where he stood by the refrigerator. “We’ll be ready in an hour,” he told Fiona.
“You take orders from her?” the one called Damon asked.
“She didn’t give an order,” Owen said calmly. “She stated a preference. And we were going to be ready to go in an hour anyway. Finish your breakfast. That is an order.”
Damon looked very upset, but he turned his attention back to his plate.
Fiona was suddenly uncomfortable being in the room with all of them. “I’m going to go make sure my bike is ready for the journey,” she said.
Owen nodded. “There’s oil in the garage if you need it, and a few cans of gas as well,” he said. “Help yourself. You can feel free to use any tools you need, too. And if you need help with anything—”
“I don’t,” she said shortly, before he could get the sentence out. “Thanks,” she added, trying to soften her inadvertent rudeness.
Owen shrugged and nodded. He turned back to the fridge. Apparently he was going to keep his promise not to tell any of the Wild Grizzlies what had happened between them last night then—but Fiona was more worried about what would happen when they returned to the Hell’s Wolves. If the Grizzlies found out what she’d done, it would be embarrassing, but if the Wolves found out, it could be a disaster.
Everyone was ready to go on time. Fiona wondered, for a moment, how they would settle the question of who rode where in the line, but Owen handled it neatly enough by allowing her to go first on her own and then organizing his own pack behind her. She might have felt excluded, she supposed, but it was an elegant solution, and the truth was that it was nice to be on her own for a while. Riding surrounded by bears would have been stressful.