Marked by the Wolf (A New Adult Urban Fantasy)

by Lee Mae

  From there, they’d spread out across the country, splitting, creating new packs as the old ones grew too large or fighting led a group to strike out on their own. Sam and Bec’s pack had been in the Philadelphia area for well over two hundred years, before this country even existed.

  They were proud of their heritage but, if truth be known, they’d become somewhat elitist over the years in who they brought into the pack. Sam wasn’t sure how that had happened, but it wasn’t doing the pack any favors. Pack numbers were dwindling because of this attitude.

  Add in more awareness by mortals and things were tougher than ever. They’d always been reclusive, but now they’d been driven almost underground. Sam knew it would be up to him to do things differently, regardless of the consequences. And for Taryn, he’d gladly break tradition.

  “Still in bed? Rough night?” Bec was in the doorway of Sam’s room, arms folded across his massive chest.

  Sam looked over, scowling, any arousal or desire draining quickly away. He finally slid out of bed, planting his feet firmly on the floor. “Bec, I’m not in the mood right now for your comments. If you haven’t got anything positive to say, then just shut up.”

  “So the search for a mate didn’t go so well?” Bec took a step into the room, sniffing loudly.

  “I smell her…and she smells like sex.” Bec looked at his brother. “Are you taking them for a test ride now?”

  Sam was instantly on his feet instantly, hands balled into fists. “Bec, out. Out of my room. And while you’re at it, out of the pack. I’ve had enough of your insolence. If you’re so sure of what it takes to be alpha, by all means, go be one.”

  Bec snorted. “You really mean it this time? Or is this more posturing?”

  Sam took a step closer to Bec. “With all my heart. I mean it. Out.”

  “You realize you’re splitting the pack. I’ll take with me those that want to go. And there are more than you think.”

  Sam blew out a breath. “You seem to forget I’m splitting the family as well, Bec. Or doesn’t that make any difference to you?”

  Bec frowned. “You’d really let me go?”

  “Really. I’m alpha now, Bec. And I get that it’s hard for you, that you think by some means it should have been you. But it’s not. You can fight me for it, and I’ll win. You know it, and I know it.”

  “You’d really fight your own brother?” Bec’s frown turned to a look of disbelief.

  “Bec, what do you want from me? You’re not happy I’m alpha. You’ve let everyone know how you feel. I give you the chance to go…hell, I tell you to go, but you stay. Just what the hell do you want from me?”

  Bec shook his head. “If you don’t know, then I guess it really is time for me to leave.” He turned and walked away, pausing in the doorway. He spoke without looking back.

  “You’re not going to make it alone, Sam. You need us, all of us, as a pack.”

  “I don’t need anyone. Close the door on your way out, Bec.”

  The door slammed, the sound echoing in the room. Sam sat down wearily on the bed, head in his hands. This was so much harder than his father had made it look. But his father hadn’t had a little brother dogging his every move. He found himself lost in a sea of memories for a long time, finally rising, pulling on jeans and a t-shirt before padding downstairs to see exactly what he had left with for a pack, knowing he was now left without a brother.

  6

  Taryn usually had Wednesday night off, but by early evening she’d found herself either restlessly wandering around her apartment, or just as restlessly flicking through television channels. She was distracted and irritable, and annoyed with herself. With a frustrated sigh, she tossed down the remote, grabbed her bag and headed to the club.

  “Hey, thought you were off tonight.” Lori was in her usual place on the couch, smoking her usual cigarette.

  “I was, but last night was slow…so, you know…” Taryn hoped Lori would back off, but she wasn’t counting on it. Lori knew her better than anyone, and saw through her like a pane of glass.

  “So, you’re picking up an extra shift because last night was slow? Yeah…they were packed in like sardines out there. You, however, were in a private room with your new man.”

  Lori leaned forward, stubbing out her cigarette, blowing smoke toward the ceiling. “But, you know, it’s just as well. That Neon chick didn’t show up tonight and Mack’s just about busting his balls. He’ll be glad you’re here.”

  “So the tattooed light-show chick bailed after one night?” Taryn shook her head. Girls came and went here all the time, but she knew if Mack invested money in her in any way, he must have thought she had some kind of longevity, at least be around long enough to make the lights worth his time and money.

  “Yeah, well, so goes the game.” Lori got off the couch, stretching. Her perky breasts pushed against her filmy robe and even though Taryn knew she was here for other reasons, that little glimpse of her friend set off a little thud in Taryn’s stomach.

  Lori walked over to Taryn’s locker, standing behind her, hands on Taryn’s hips, fingers gently caressing her, sliding up beneath her sweatshirt. “I know what the look means, princess.” She lifted Taryn’s thick, dark hair, her lips on her neck and then sliding up to nibble at her ear.

  Before Taryn could think, she turned into Lori’s embrace, their lips meeting in a familiar kiss. There was a raw need in Lori tonight, a vulnerability Taryn sensed that was rarely evident. Lori’s tough-as-nails exterior dropped as their kiss deepened.

  Taryn felt the rising sense of arousal being with Lori always brought, but in the back of her mind images of Sam rose up of his taut body beneath hers in the brief lap dance, his mouth hot and hard against her lips. She lost herself for a moment in the memories, thoughts of Sam competing with Lori’s kiss for Taryn’s attention, eventually winning. It wasn’t long before Lori broke away, shaking her head.

  “You’re a million miles away, kid. And I’m not going that far tonight.” She took a step back, head tilted to the side, her eyes narrowed.

  “Lori, I…I’m not…it’s not you.” Taryn fumbled for the words, but she knew she couldn’t explain.

  “Hey, don’t sweat it.” Lori walked to her locker, dropped her robe and reached inside for a black lace teddy, tugging it up roughly up over her long legs, shimmying herself into the scrap of fabric.

  Taryn watched her friend, aching to reach out but unsure what to say. Lori looked up, her face now set in a careful mask of indifference, but Taryn could see the hurt in her eyes.

  “Hey, I said drop it. Guys are guys. I’d do the same if I were in your shoes. He’s a hot guy, even if he’s…whatever he is.” She slammed her locker door, the sound echoing in the small room. Taryn winced. She hated fighting with Lori. And she knew Lori would never throw her over for a man.

  “I’ll see you out there.” Lori was through the door, her heels clicking on the scuffed linoleum floor, still tugging at the straps of her teddy before Taryn could speak.

  Taryn let out a sigh; pulling out a red camisole and panty set she’d planned to wear. She held them a moment, fingering the satiny material. Was a guy really worth losing her best friend? Taryn shook her head, shoving the clothes back into her locker.

  “Hey! You’re here. Thank God because we’re short tonight. You’re on in five.” Mack was already gone by the time Taryn looked up, the protest on her lips dying unsaid.

  “Shit.” She yanked her sweatshirt off, tugging the camisole over her head, static crackling through her hair. She shed her jeans, pulled on the red satin panties and the ridiculously high red heels that completed the outfit.

  The lighted mirror cast a harsh light over her face. Most of her make-up was in place, done at home, but she added another coat of mascara and slicked a slash of red lipstick across her mouth. The hair she couldn’t care less about right now. It would be a snarled mess by the end of her set anyway.

  Taryn looked at her reflection, not really liking the girl lookin
g back at her. She was rarely given to deep introspection, but right now she wondered what the hell had gotten into her.

  She took a deep breath, held it for the count of three and blew it out sharply. Somehow she’d make it up to Lori. Now she needed to go do her set, work the crowd, and try to at least pretend she wanted to be here. The last thing on her mind was Sam.

  Mack had put on some odd music for her, not her usual. But her moves still worked and she was still down on all fours by the end of the song, pretty much on tempo and with the beat. The guys didn’t care as long as she ended up more or less naked, gyrating and shaking what she had. And she could do that in her sleep.

  The music ended and she knelt to retrieve her camisole, snatching it away from some guy in the front who thought he’d get away with a freebie. She’d lost more items if clothing that way. She shook her finger at him, pasting what she hoped was a flirtatious smile on her face.

  She stood as the lights flickered briefly, making her blink. They came up, and she saw him. Standing in the back, as still as a statue, the only man in the room not shouting drunkenly or trying to drag a girl into a private room.

  Even though the lights were in her face, she knew he was looking into her eyes, probably the only guy in the room who wasn’t staring at her naked body. She hesitated briefly, then turned too quickly, almost stumbling as her heels slipped on the stage. Music suddenly blared and Eden came dancing onto the stage, colliding with Taryn.

  “Out of my way, bitch. You’ve had your turn.” She brushed past and the catcalls and hoots of the men swelled, the sound washing over Taryn. And then, this was the last place she wanted to be. She fled to the dressing room.

  Who was this guy? Was he anyone to her, someone she really wanted to see now? Her hands were shaking and she sank weakly down onto the couch. He was here for her. There was no doubt in her mind. But did she want to be there for him?

  Screw the costume, Taryn pulled on her sweatshirt, tugging her jeans over the satin panties, her sweatshirt over her head. It had been a mistake to come here, to look for Sam. He was trouble, like he said, all kinds of wrong. She was foolish to try to make something more out of just a guy who thought she was a good dancer, just because he cleaned up better than the normal crowd.

  Cool night air washed over Taryn as she opened the alley door. She hated the alley more than anything, but Mack didn’t want them coming through the club in street clothes. She usually tried to leave with another girl or Sam, if he was headed out. Being alone in the alley gave her the creeps, no doubt.

  She turned toward the street, clutching her purse against her body. The sound of a car horn ahead made her jump and in that instant, a hand reached out from between the dented dumpsters that lined the alley, closing around her wrist.

  She turned, half a scream forced between her lips, looking into a pockmarked face of a man crouched in the dark.

  “Let go!” Taryn twisted her wrist, but his grip was like steel. He pulled her toward him, her heels skidding on the damp pavement.

  “Where is she? She’s in there, right?” The man’s voice rasped out between parched lips. Taryn’s eyes widened as she saw the glint of a knife blade in his other hand. He waved it at her, skimming it at her throat. She jerked back hard, the bones in her wrist grinding together.

  “Who? I don’t know what you mean.” Panic was bubbling up inside Taryn and she had the surreal sense of everything slowing down. The man’s voice dropped in pitch, garbled and indistinct. And then she was falling forward, in slow motion, as he pulled her into the darkness between the dumpsters.

  Then the world grew very loud and things were moving too quickly for her to understand. She was in the alley, head down and stumbling backward, feeling like she’d been catapulted from the space between the dumpsters. There was a strangled cry, a loud clang as something crashed into the dumpster and then quiet. She finally fell to one knee, looking up in time to see a man on his hands and knees, the man who’d grabbed her, another man standing over him.

  Taryn’s eyes went wide as she realized it was Sam. He grabbed the man, hauled him upright and held him by the neck with one hand, as if the man weighed nothing at all. Taryn noticed the man’s feet weren’t touching the ground.

  “Sam!” She found her voice, as she fell forward, her hands scraping against the grimy alley, her wrist throbbing. Sam turned toward her, and in the faint light of the alley, she swore his eyes were almost glowing silver. She blinked but then he had turned back to the man in his grasp, his face held very close to the struggling man. There was a noise, like a low growl, and then Sam dropped the man like a sack of garbage.

  Sam turned to Taryn, striding across the alley. Behind him, she watched the skinny man scuttle from between the dumpsters on all fours, scrambling to gain his feet, finally breaking into a shambling run as he turned the corner onto the street.

  Taryn was trembling as Sam’s hands closed around her arms, lifting her from the pavement.

  “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” Sam was looking at her intently, his eyes roaming quickly over her face, down over her body.

  “No…just my arm.” She held up her hand, an ugly bruise beginning to form around her wrist. She stared at the purpling marks, and her trembling turned to violent shaking, her teeth clicking together.

  “You’re in shock, Taryn. Let me take you back inside.” Sam took a step back, toward the door to the club, his arm around her shoulder. But Taryn shook her head, her voice barely audible.

  “Take me home…with you.”

  7

  Sam opened the door to his room. The house had been quiet, Bec gone and his room empty, with several other members apparently having left with him as well. Sam knew they were friends of Bec’s, guys he’d grown up with, and a few of their mates, some of them he and Bec had known forever. But that wasn’t important now.

  He carried Taryn into his room, laying her on his bed, grabbed the blanket and pulled it over her. She tried to sit up, struggling with the blanket but he gently pushed her back down. Seeing her in his bed sent a frisson of anticipation through him, but now wasn’t the time to act on that, not while she was afraid and incredibly vulnerable.

  “Stay still. I’ll be right back.” He moved away from the bed and she reached out, grabbing his hand.

  “No, don’t go…please.” She looked up at him, her eyes wide, almost too large for her face.

  “Just getting a glass of water, right there. And something for your wrist.” He pointed to the open door to the bathroom. “You’ll be able to see me, or hear me, the whole time.”

  Her grip loosened and he patted her leg, before walking quickly into the bathroom. As he ran cold water over a washcloth, he looked at his reflection in the mirror. What the hell was he thinking, bringing her back here? Even if she had asked, he shouldn’t have done it. He could have just as easily taken her back inside, or to her own apartment. She was too fragile right now, too available and he didn’t know if he could control himself around her.

  He shook his head as he reached for a glass, filling it with water. What the hell was he thinking? She was dangerous, but in such a delicious way.

  Taryn was sitting up against the head of his bed, legs tucked beneath her, the blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She was still trembling and her hands shook slightly, and she spilled water on the blanket as she took a drink.

  “Here.” Sam set the glass on the bedside table, sitting down beside her, brushing away the droplets of water. He held the cold washcloth against her bruised wrist.

  For a brief instant, he caught a whiff of a strange scent, an animal scent, almost wolfish but off somehow. He didn’t think it was Taryn herself, and he wondered briefly if the man who had attacked Taryn was a werewolf. He lifted her wrist closer to his face and inhaled deeply. He was right, it wasn’t Taryn; it was on her clothes. She must have picked it up when she fell to the ground. Sam shook his head. It wasn’t important now, he’d worry about it later.

  “Thanks.” She was looking
up at him, her wide eyes fixed on his face. “You saved my life. Thank you.”

  “I was in the right place at the right time. Do you know the guy?”

  “He’s an ex-boyfriend…”

  Sam drew back, frowning. Taryn reached out, her hand on his arm.

  “No, not mine. One of the girls from the club. He’s been hanging out in the alley for a few days, I guess, bothering the girls when they leave, looking for China…his girlfriend…ex, I guess. Drugs or something.” She took a deep breath. “I’m rambling. My nerves are shot.”

  But Sam wasn’t listening to Taryn’s words. Her touch, her hand on his arm, on his bare skin, sent an electric jolt through his body. Beyond her touch, her scent was overwhelming him, the complexity and depth of it amazing, touching every nerve in his body. He could still smell her fear, sharp and acrid, lingering on her. That would fade, he knew.

  Beneath that was Taryn’s own scent, warm and rich, sweet with an edge, like biting into an orange picked fresh from the tree, drenched in heat, lush and juicy.

  And finally, the scent of her core, her very being, her intense sexuality. Sam closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, taking his fill of her, not able to get enough. Beyond description, her scent started a chain reaction of emotions and feelings in his body, everything spiraling out of his control. He’d never experienced this with any woman, and as much as it aroused him, it scared him. Control was everything to Sam and this woman was quickly tearing that to shreds with just her presence, her touch on his skin.

  He opened his eyes, caught Taryn’s look and saw reflected there everything he was feeling, the fear from her attack fading, replaced with lust and arousal. She started to shrug the blanket off her shoulders and he leaned forward, pulling it away from her body. Even in a faded sweatshirt and jeans, she was alluring, arousing, every lush curve still very evident.