What a Wolf Desires (Lux Catena Series Book 1)

by Amy Pennza

  She slipped the sweater over her head and stuffed the bra in her pocket. Her shoelaces kept unraveling every time she tried to tie a bow, so she shoved them into the sides of her Chucks and picked her way back to the others, staring hard at the ground, which kept trying to rush up at her every time she took a step. Remy and Dom stood next to each other, twin frowns on their faces. The Hunters ranged around them, silent sentinels ready to do their bidding.

  “She’s certain?” Dom asked Remy.

  Lizette edged between two Hunters. She didn’t have to ask what Dom meant. “Positive,” she said.

  Dom’s frown deepened. “Do you understand the implications of this?”

  Dom’s question was so funny she almost felt dizzy, and she swallowed against the hysterical laughter threatening to spill out. She rubbed her forehead. “Yeah, Dom, I think I probably understand the implications better than anyone.”

  “This isn’t funny, Lizette.”

  She dropped her hand. “I’m not laughing, Dominic.”

  His low growl vibrated the ground. The Hunters on either side of her shuffled their feet, their shoulders brushing hers. She kept her eyes on Dom’s shoulder, even as anger scalded her nerve endings, and she fought the urge to meet his eyes. The hammer pounding the inside of her forehead intensified. She needed those pills soon.

  Dom’s head shot up. “We’ve got company.”

  A massive wolf burst from the shadows over Dom’s shoulder and landed in front of him. Its coat was a glossy coal black. The Hunter closest to Lizette grabbed her arm and tugged her back.

  The wolf swung its huge head toward the Hunter and snapped his jaws. The Hunter released her and bowed his head. “Apologies, Alpha.”

  More wolves spilled into the clearing. Max tossed his head at them. One by one they Turned in a flurry of fur and flesh so fast Lizette couldn’t track it. A wave of nausea rippled through her stomach. She wished Max would hurry up and freak out so she could sit down.

  He Turned last, his Gift ensuring his transition was flawless. He slid between forms like smoke. Even with her temples throbbing, she marveled at the beauty of his Gift.

  He stood naked in the middle of his personal guard, fists at his sides, his big body emanating menace. Muscles flexed across his chest and down his arms. Smooth tan skin covered his flat pecs. The lines bisecting his abs were so deep they were shadowed hollows in his abdomen. Her gaze drifted down…

  She squeezed her eyes shut. Mistake. A panicky awareness jolted through her. He was huge there.

  He turned to Remy and spoke in rapid-fire French, the phrases tripping over each other too fast for her to understand.

  Remy lowered his head and replied in the same language. She caught a word here and there. Trespass…attack…heal.

  Max cut Remy off with a slash of his hand. “Lizette.” His accent was thicker than usual, the French pronunciation of her name sounding more like Leezette. His eyes glowed. His accent was beautiful. His eyes were feral. “This wolf you healed. You know him?”

  She shook her head as she backed away, her Chucks sliding in the dirt. But it was useless. Jonah had bled all the way back to the Lodge. Max’s nostrils flared.

  Shit. It might have taken her a long time to identify Jonah’s scent, but Max hadn’t spent the past five years in the human world, where such things didn’t matter. Maybe he won’t remember…

  He shot forward and seized her arms, jerking her against him. His fangs flashed. “Why the fuck do you smell like Nathan Hallerton?”

  Everything was too much. He was too close and too angry, and she was too scared and too damn tired and hurting. Darkness gathered at the edges of her vision, beckoning her.

  “Answer me,” he growled.

  “I…” The darkness swelled, calm and peaceful. She closed her eyes and dove into it.

  11

  Lizette woke in a strange bed, the sheets cool against her bare skin. Somewhere nearby a fire crackled. So peaceful. She stretched, savoring the buttery feel of high-quality thread-count.

  Her eyes flew open. Bare skin?

  She flung the covers back. Someone had stripped off her jeans and sweater, leaving her in the lace hipsters and taupe bra she’d thrown on in her apartment this morning.

  Except that wasn’t right… She frowned as memories from the night filtered through her brain. She passed out in Max’s arms—and she had not been wearing a bra. She’d stuffed it in her pocket.

  Which meant someone had put it on her. And she had one big, fat guess who.

  She rolled over and buried her face in the pillow as she groaned low in her throat. Would he never stop finding ways to invade her space and override her wishes? She took a deep breath and got a lungful of his scent—a mix of shampoo, pine, and the subtle dark spice that seemed to belong solely to him. She flipped to her back and sat up. It hadn’t taken him long to get her exactly where he wanted her.

  But that didn’t mean she needed to stay here.

  Step one was finding her clothes. She glanced around the bedroom. No surprise, it was decorated in dark, bold colors. Like the rest of the Lodge, it featured heavy, hand-carved walnut woodwork. The crown molding was probably thicker than her waist. The wood plank floors were stained a deep, rich mahogany. Sconces along the walls glowed a pleasant yellow, but most of the room’s light came from the massive stone fireplace that took up one of the walls. Its opening looked big enough for five people to stand inside upright, and the mantle boasted the same intricate walnut carvings as the rest of the room. A fire blazed in the hearth, its flames crackling and dancing.

  Any other time, she would have enjoyed its cozy warmth, but she didn’t have that luxury. She couldn’t forgot whose bed she was in.

  She slipped out of the bed and landed on a thick area rug with a floral pattern. It should have looked out of place in such a masculine room, but it worked. Unless someone in the pack was an interior designer, Max probably picked everything out himself, because he would never allow a human into the Lodge.

  Irritation niggled at her. Did everything have to come so effortlessly to him? She took a few steps away from the bed and looked back at it. The headboard, which dominated the wall, was covered in black fabric and studded with black buttons. It wouldn’t have looked out of place in a pirate’s cabin. Or a dungeon. Goose bumps broke out across her skin. She grabbed a throw blanket from the foot of the bed and wrapped it around her.

  The bedroom was really more of a suite. From her spot by the bed, she had a clear view of a small foyer leading to a set of double doors she assumed led out of the suite. To her right, a half-opened door revealed a darkened bathroom. As soon as she spotted it, uncomfortable pressure in her bladder reminded her it had been hours since she’d peed.

  She padded to door and pushed it all the way open. There were three buttons on a sophisticated keypad next to the jamb. She shrugged and pushed all of them. Light and noise filled the room.

  Whoa. The bathroom was bigger than her entire apartment. She messed with the buttons until she found the one that shut off the fan and then made a much-needed pit stop.

  When she was finished, she retraced her steps along the dark slate tiles, paused, and turned in a slow circle, her interest snagging on the huge, open-air shower. She wouldn’t have to worry about the shower curtain sticking to her legs in that slate-tiled monstrosity. It dominated an entire corner of the bathroom and could have easily fit twelve people. She tried not to imagine why Max needed a shower large enough to accommodate a small cocktail party or an entire baseball team.

  An image of him from the forest flashed in her mind. She’d forgotten how big he was. Clothes tamed him—made his human veneer a little more believable. Nude, his true nature was on full display.

  And what a display.

  Fire kindled in her belly. What would he look like in the shower—water rolling a sinful path down that broad back and those muscular buttocks? She squeezed her eyes shut, but that only brought her fantasy into sharper focus. She forced them open.


  Stop it. It wasn’t Max making her feel this way. Not really. He was a powerful, attractive man, but he wasn’t the reason for her sexual frustration. What she really needed was a turn or two with her toys. Over the years she’d amassed a small but high-quality collection of vibrators. With Remy watching her load up her duffel today, she hadn’t been able to slip even one into her bag.

  Not that she would have dared bring one into the Lodge. She’d die before she used a vibrator within a twenty-mile radius of any werewolf. They’d recognize the buzzing for what it was within seconds. She blew out a huff of air and turned from the shower.

  The bathroom also included a linen closet stacked with towels and extra toiletries.

  Beside it was another door with another keypad—this one with rows of numbers. She tried the handle. Locked. Whatever was behind there was important enough for Max to keep people out. Weapons? She gnawed her lower lip. Something like that might come in handy the next time he trampled all over her rights. The keypad’s buttons glowed a soft, mocking green. There were probably millions of combinations. She could be here all night trying to get in.

  Or at least until Max shows up.

  After checking her blanket placement in the mirror, she went back to the bedroom, where the fire still crackled, indifferent to her plight. She wandered to a wall of curtains and peeked out.

  Weak daylight spilled through the windows, stinging her eyes. She squinted and thrust the curtain aside. How long had she slept? The back of the Lodge faced north, which meant she couldn’t see the position of the sun. Max’s suite opened onto a balcony overlooking a breathtaking view of the gorge. She peered down at the thin stripe of the water below, guessing she was probably on the fourth floor.

  Figures he’d choose a room that emphasized his position at the top of the food chain.

  The water sparkled a deep red, the sun’s rays turning the water the color of blood. She must have slept through the night.

  Her pulse leaped in her throat, and she swiveled to face the bed. If she spent the night in the Alpha’s room, where had the Alpha slept?

  The comforter next to her side of the bed was smooth, its surface undisturbed. She let out a shaky breath and continued her search for clothing.

  A quick inspection revealed a small workout room with a mirrored wall and two flat-screen TVs. There was also a kitchenette and a spacious office. Apparently he needed two important-looking desks to sit behind and threaten people.

  She wanted to hate his personal space, but there was nothing to dislike. The overall effect was altogether different from her own style, which ran toward more of a beachy cottage feel, but she had to admit it was stunning. Everything was beautifully done, from the tasteful minimalist artwork to the glossy black cabinets that concealed a media center that wouldn’t have looked out of place in NASA’s mission control. The mahogany floors ran throughout the suite, broken up occasionally by plush area rugs.

  She trailed the blanket after her as she walked back to the bedroom. Her tour hadn’t turned up a scrap of her clothing, which meant she was stuck here like a sitting duck until Max or one of his minions showed up. She looked at the double doors. What were the odds there were at least two guards posted on the other side?

  The doors opened, and light spilled across the foyer. Max’s silhouette filled the doorway. The doors snicked shut behind him.

  Lizette gasped and pulled the blanket tighter. Her heart pounded. There was nowhere else to go but the bed. She darted a look at the rumpled sheets. Nope. In a confrontation with Max, she definitely preferred to be vertical.

  His booted feet thunked against the floor as he approached the bed. He stopped at the foot and glowered at her. “What are you doing up?”

  “Where are my clothes?”

  He crossed his arms. “You’ll get them back when you can behave responsibly.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

  “You haven’t been taking care of yourself. You’re too thin. A hungry wolf is a dangerous wolf, petite.”

  “You have no right to lecture me on being responsible.” Her voice trembled. “You are the last person who should—”

  “I know about the headache pills.”

  She snapped her mouth shut.

  His eyes softened. “Human drugs won’t work. I thought you knew that.”

  “I…” She let her shoulders slump. “I had to try something. They seemed to help a little.”

  “It’s forbidden to see human doctors. I thought you knew that, too.”

  “I do.” She raised her chin. “Are you going to punish me?”

  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realized her mistake.

  He uncrossed his arms. He’d exchanged his white button-down for a black one that made his tan skin gleam gold in the dim light. His pale eyes glittered as they swept her from head to toe while the air between them seemed to crackle.

  She swallowed. Under the blanket, her skin heated. How stupid she’d been to use a double entendre—however accidental—with a Frenchman. His people invented them.

  The spark she felt in the bathroom grew, the flames building. Heat gathered between her legs. Her nipples tightened. Under the blanket, she pressed her forearms against her chest.

  “I think I can let it pass this time,” he said finally. “Just no more doctor visits, d’accord?”

  “O-okay.”

  A log snapped in the fireplace. She jumped and clutched the blanket to her throat.

  Max raised an eyebrow. “If you hold that any tighter, you’re going to strangle yourself.”

  “You looked ready to strangle me in the forest.”

  He gave her an assessing look. “That’s what I came here to talk to you about.” He gestured to the bed. “Why don’t you lie down?”

  “What?” She backed up. “I can talk to you just fine like this.”

  “I don’t think so. My Beta tells me your last meal was around noon yesterday, and it was a poor one at that.”

  Dom. Damn him! Outrage burned away her nerves. “Are you writing down what I eat now?”

  “Someone has to.”

  “I’m not a child!”

  He let out a bark of laughter, but there was no humor in it. “Oh, I’m aware.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but he swung away from her and stalked to the fireplace to stare down at the flames.

  Over his shoulder he said, “Lie down, Lizette. I won’t touch you. You used your Gift last night, and you’re exhausted. But there is much we need to discuss.”

  She stared at his broad back. There was a strange note in his voice. He sounded almost…defeated. She looked between him and the bed. He said he wanted to talk. Knowing Max, he wouldn’t leave until he said whatever he came to say. She could either face him in a thin blanket or covered by sheets and a thick, concealing comforter.

  She rounded the bed and climbed in, then slid under the sheets and pulled the covers to her chin. Lying prone was no good—too vulnerable. She sat up and stuffed another pillow under her head. There.

  She cleared her throat. “All right. I’m ready.”

  He faced her and walked to the bed. The mattress dipped as he sat near her hip. The movement pulled her blankets to the side. She tugged them back.

  “How do you feel?” he asked.

  “I’m fine.”

  He tapped her nose. “Liar.” His voice was whisper soft.

  She batted his hand away. “God, it’s like you and Dom share a brain.” She crossed her arms over the sheets. “My legs are sore, but probably only because I haven’t walked that far in a while. The dizzy feeling went away. My head doesn’t hurt, so that’s good.” She could use a hot shower, but there was no way in hell she was telling him that. He’d probably rub his hands together and announce he just happened to have a nice big one right over there.

  “You need to be more careful with yourself.”

  He was lecturing her now? She’d lived alone for the past five years. Hell, she had a full-time job, a college deg
ree under her belt, and another in progress. She sat up, one hand clutching the sheet to her chest. Indignation made her voice shake. “I guess being held prisoner just doesn’t agree with me. I normally take care of myself just fine.”

  “Oh yes, and what a fine job you’ve been doing. You’re underweight and exhausted.”

  “Because I slept through the night? You know, when most people sleep?”

  “You slept almost twenty-four hours, petite.”

  Her jaw dropped. “What? But the sun—”

  “Is setting. It’s six o’clock in the evening.”

  Indignation gave way to confusion…and what might have been fear. She sank back down to the pillows and pushed her hair over her shoulder with a trembling hand. To lose a whole day like that…

  Max gripped her knee over the comforter. “No more skipping meals. I counted your ribs when I carried you inside.”

  Warmth flooded her face. “You had no right to undress me.”

  “You’re my mate. You were hurt. I cared for you.”

  “We’re not—”

  “We are. We are mated.” Heat from his palm warmed her skin through the plush layers of cotton. “Our bond was forged five years ago, Lizette, and you know it. I have given you as much time as I can, but that time has run out.”

  She shifted against the sheets. A tingling awareness fluttered in her chest. He was so close to her, his big body like a magnet tuned only to her. Was this the lux catena at work? Or did she just want him as a man? And how could she ever be certain of the difference?

  That’s the problem.

  “Max…”

  “Shhh.” He slid his hand up her thigh. “You want me as much as I want you.”

  Her pulse beat a little drum in her neck as he twisted his torso and planted his hands on either side of her hips. “You…want me?”

  “Ouais.” His guttural yeah sent warmth gushing between her thighs. His smile revealed the tips of canines just a little too long to be human. “And I can tell you want me just as much. Want to know how, Lizette?”

  “Yes.” Was that her voice? She didn’t recognize the low, husky tone.